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Our Little Grecian Cousin 


THE 


Little Cousin Series 


(trade mark) 

Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in 
tint. Cloth, i 2 mo, with decorative cover, 
per volume, 6o cents 

LIST OF TITLES 


By Mary Hazelton Wade 


(unless otherwise indicated) 

Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 
Our Little Hindu Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 


Our Little African Cousin 
Our Little Alaskan Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 

Our Little Arabian Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Armenian Cousin 

By Constance F. Curlewis 

Our Little Australian Cousin 
Our Little Brazilian Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 

Our Little Brown Cousin 
Our Little Canadian Cousin 

By Elizabeth R. MacDonald 

Our Little Chinese Cousin 

By Isaac Taylor Headland 

Our Little Cuban Cousin 
Our Little Dutch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Egyptian Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little English Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Eskimo Cousin 
Our Little French Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little German Cousin 
Our Little Greek Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 

L. C. PAGE 

New England Building, 


Our Little Indian Cousin 
Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 
Our Little Korean Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 

By Edward C. Butler 

Our Little Norwegian Cousin 
Our Little Panama Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 
Our Little Scotch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Siamese Cousin 
Our Little Spanish Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet 

Our Little Swedish Cousin 

By Claire M. Coburn 

Our Little Swiss Cousin 
Our Little Turkish Cousin 

Sr COMPANY 

Boston, Mass. 



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SHE TOOK HER BASKET AND RAN DOWN THE HILLSIDE.” 

{See page //.) 


I Our Little 

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t Grecian Cousin 

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By 

Mary F. Nixon -Roulet 

Author of ** GoJf the Kingy My Brother y* Our 
Little Spanish Cousiny* “ Our Little Alaskan 
Cousin** “ Our Little Brazilian 
Cousin** etc. 


Illustrated by 

Diantha W. Horne 



Boston 

L. C. Page ^ Company 
MDCCCCVIII 


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Copyright, igo8 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 


Entered at Stationers' Hall, London 


All rights reserved 


, ^iret Impression, July, 1908 




TO 

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TWO LITTLE FRIENDS 














Preface 


Of all people in the world the Grecians did 
most for art, and to the ancient Hellenes we 
owe much that is beautiful in art and interest- 
ing in history. Of modern Greece we know 
but little, the country of isles and bays, of 
fruits and flowers, and kindly people. So in 
this story you will find much of the country, 
old and new, and of the every-day life of Our 
Little Grecian Cousin. 


i 



Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. ZOE I 

11 . Maria’s Wedding 12 

III. The Antique Cup 22 

IV. The “ Agiasmo ” 38 

V. A Visit to Marco 47 

VI. Tea with a Brigand 67 

VII. ZoE Takes a Journey 84 

VIII. By the Sea 107 

IX. Autumn Pleasures 119 

X. A Happy Easter 132 



List of Illustrations 


PAGR 


(f 


She took her basket and ran down the hill- 
side.” {See page II ) . . . Frontispiece 

“ Something lay there half covered with 

yy 


a 


EARTH 

Papa Petro came riding down from his house 

ON A TINY DONKEY ” 

“ Stood before them in the beautiful national 

costume of Greece ” 

“ They washed beneath a huge plane tree ” 

“ She sprang to her feet, and in so doing pulled 


31 

39 

68 ^ 
108 y 

125 


/ 


THE BELL -ROPE 


% 


Our Little Grecian Cousin 


CHAPTER I 

ZOE 

ZoE sat in the doorway tending baby Domna 
as she lay asleep in her cradle. She was sleep- 
ing quietly, as any child should who has the 
cross on her cradle for good luck. Her skin 
was as white as milk, and this was because Zoe 
had taken care of her Marti. On the first day 
of March she had tied a bit of red ribbon 
about her little cousin’s wrist, for a charm. The 
keen March winds could not hurt the baby 
after that, nor could she have freckles nor 
sunburn. 

Early on the morning of April first, Zoe had 
dressed the baby and carried her out of doors. 


2 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


The dew lay over the flowers, the sun was just 
up, and his rosy beams turned the blossoming 
lemon trees to beauty. Zoe had sought the 
nearest garden and there hung the Marti on 
a rose bush, plucking a rose and pinning it to 
Domna’s cap. 

“ Now, Babycoula,” ‘ she had said, clapping 
her hands, “ you shall have luck. Your Marti 
is upon a rose bush kissed with dew before the 
sun is high. The summer’s heat shall not 
touch you and you shall be cool and well.” 

It was fortunate for Zoe as well as for the 
“ Joy,” which the Greek word for baby means, 
that Domna was a quiet baby. As most of 
the little girl’s time was taken up with caring 
for one or another of her aunt’s children, 
when they were cross it left her but little time 
for thinking and dreaming. Zoe’s thoughts 
were often sad ones, but her dreams were rose- 
coloured. When the little girl thought, she 

* Pet name for a baby as we would say “Babykins.” 


Zoe 


3 


remembered the home she had once had. It 
was far in the sunny south where lemon groves 
lifted golden-fruited arms to the soft winds, 
and hillsides gleamed with purple and white 
currants. 

Her father had met with ill luck and men had 
told him of a land beyond the seas, where 
people had plenty to eat and found gold pieces 
rolling in the streets. He had sent her mother 
and herself to live near Zoe’s uncle and she had 
seen no more the bright, gay father whom she 
loved. Then her mother died, and this, her 
first great sorrow, made her into a quiet, sober 
child with a dark, grave face. At ten she was 
a little old woman, taking such good care of her 
aunt’s babies that that hard-working woman 
did not begrudge the orphan the little she ate. 

Uncle Georgios was a kind man. He loved 
children, as do all Grecians, who say, “ A house 
without a child is a cold house.” He worked 
too hard to pay much attention to any one of the 


4 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

swarm which crowded his cottage. Aunt Anna 
had so many children that she never had time 
to think of any of them except to see that they 
had food and clothes. Zoe was but another 
girl for whom a marriage portion must be pro- 
vided. Every Grecian girl must have a dowry, 
and it would be a great disgrace if none were 
ready for her when she was sought in marriage. 
Fathers and brothers have to earn the necessary 
money, and the girls themselves make ready 
their household linens, often beginning when 
only ten years old. 

Zoe had not commenced making her linens 
because her aunt had not been able to give 
her thread or even to take time to teach her to 
spin. So the little maid’s hands were idle as 
she watched the babycoula and that was not 
good, for a girl’s fingers should always be at 
work, lest she have too much time to think sad 
thoughts. But, if her thoughts were dark, her 
dreams were bright, for she saw before her a 


rosy future in which she lived where the sun 
shone and everyone was happy. 

Baby Domna stirred in her cradle, for flies 
were crawling over her little nose. Zoe waved 
them off singing, “ Nani, nani, Babycoula, 
mou-ou-ou ! ’’ The baby smiled and patted her 
hands. 

‘‘ You are a good child,” said Zoe. ‘‘ The 
best of tables was set out for you the third night 
after you came from Heaven. There was a 
fine feast for the Three Fates, even a bit of 
sumadhe and a glass of mastikad^ You must 
have good fortune. 

“ Palamakia,^ play it, dear, 

Papa’s coming to see you here, 

He brings with him loukoumi 3 sweet 
For Babycoula now to eat. 

“ It’s time you went to sleep again. Baby,” 
said Zoe, her foot on the rocker, but the baby- 

* Sumadhe is a sweetmeat and mastika a cordial. 

^ The Grecian equivalent of “ Pattycake, pattycake.” 

3 Loukoumi is a paste made of sweet gums, sugar, 
rosewater and nuts. 


6 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

coula gurgled and waved her fat arms to be 
taken up, so the patient nurse took up the 
heavy little child and played with her. 

‘‘ Little rabbit, go, go, go,” she said, making 
her little fingers creep up the soft little arm, as 
American children play creep mousie,’’ with 
their baby sisters. 

“ Dear little rabbit, go and take a drink. 

Baby’s neck is cool and clean and sweet,” 

and the little girl’s fingers tickled the warm 
little neck and Domna laughed and gurgled in 
glee. Zoe danced her up and down on her 
knee and sang, 

“ Babycoula, dance to-day, 

Alas, the fiddler’s gone away. 

He’s gone to Athens far away. 

Find him and bring him back to play.” 

The pretty play went on, and at last the tiny 
head drooped on Zoe’s shoulder and the baby- 
coula slept again. Then her little nurse gently 
laid her in the cradle, tucked in the covers and 


sat slowly waving an olive branch above her 
to keep away the flies. 

Zoe’s uncle lived in Thessaly, that part of 
Northern Greece where splendid grain fields 
cover the plains, a golden glory of ripened 
sheaves. 

Uncle Georgios worked in the fields in harvest 
time and the rest of the year he was a shepherd, 
herding sheep and goats in the highlands. 
The boys worked with him. There were Marco 
and Spiridon, well grown boys of eighteen and 
twenty, working hard for their sisters’ marriage 
portions, which must be earned before they 
themselves could be married. After Spiridon 
came Loukas, a sailor, who was always away 
from home, and then Maria and Anna. An- 
other boy, mischievous Georgios, was next in 
age to Anna, there were two little girls younger 
than she, and then Baby Domna, Zoe’s especial 
charge. 

It had been a hard summer. The sirocco had 


8 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


blown from Africa and made the days so hot 
that all field work had to be done at night. 
Now the threshing-floors were busy and Uncle 
Georgios was working early and late to get in 
the grain. 

‘‘ Zoe ! ” called Aunt Anna from within the 
house. “ It is time to take your uncle’s dinner 
to him.” 

“ Yes, Aunt,” said Zoe, rising from the door- 
way, and hastening to take the basket Aunt 
Anna had prepared. There was black bread, 
fresh garlic and eggs. Then she ran quickly 
along the path which led to the fields. It was 
a beautiful day and the air was fresh and 
sweet. 

‘‘ I am Atalanta running for the apple,” 
laughed Zoe to herself, as she sped up the hill, 
reaching the threshing-place just at noon. 
The threshing-floor was very old and made of 
stone. It was thirty feet across, and over its 
stone floor cattle were driven up and down. 


Zoe 


9 


with their hoofs beating the grain out of the 
straw. Zoe stood and watched the patient 
creatures going back and forth yoked together 
in pairs. 

“ Heu ! Zoe ! ” called Marco, with whom she 
was a great favourite, “ Have you brought us 
to eat ? ’’ 

“ I have. Cousin,” she answered, gazing with 
admiring eyes at the tall fellow, with his slim 
figure, aquiline nose, oval face, and pleasant 
mouth shaded by a slight moustache. Marco 
was a true Thessalonian, handsome and gay. 
He had served his time in the army and had come 
home to help his father bring up the younger 
children. 

‘‘ Why don’t you put muzzles on the oxen, 
they look so fierce ? ” said Zoe, looking at the 
great creatures as they passed and repassed. 

‘‘ Oh, they are never muzzled,” said Marco. 
“ It was not done by our fathers. It reminds 
me of what I read in Queen Olga’s Bible, ‘ Do 


lo Our Little Grecian Cousin 


not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the 
grain.’ ” 

“ What is Queen Olga’s Bible ? ” asked Zoe. 
She was not afraid of Marco. With her other 
cousins she was as quiet as a mouse, but she 
chatted with Marco without fear. 

“ The good queen found that the soldiers had 
no Holy Scriptures which they could read,” 
said Marco. ‘‘ Because all the holy books were 
in the ancient Greek. She had them put into 
the language we talk and printed for the 
soldiers. Then she gave one to each man in 
our regiment and I have mine still.” 

How good she was ! ” cried Zoe. “ Did 
every one love her for her kindness ? ” 

‘‘ Not so,” said Marco. “ Many people were 
angry at her. They said she was not showing 
respect to the Scriptures and was trying to 
bring in new things, as if that was a sin I All 
new things are not bad, are they, little cousin ? ” 
‘‘ I do not know, it is long since I had any- 
thing new,” said Zoe. 


Zoe 


1 1 

‘‘ That is true, poor child,” said Marco, 
kindly as he glanced at her worn dress. “ Never 
mind. When we get Maria married you shall 
have something new and nice.” 

‘‘ Oh, thank you, I am very well as I am,” 
said Zoe, flushing happily at his kindness, for 
she was a loving little soul and blossomed like 
a flower in the sunlight. “ I must go home now,” 
she said. Baby will be awake from her nap 
and Aunt Anna will need me to tend her.^* 

“ Are you never tired of baby ” asked 
Marco. 

“ Oh, I love her,” said Zoe brightly, as if 
that was an answer to his question, and nodding 
gaily, she took her basket and ran down the 
hillside, where buttercups and bright red poppies 
nodded in the sun. 


CHAPTER II 


maria’s wedding 

Maria was to be married. This was a very 
great event in the family and all the little Mez- 
zorios were wild with excitement. Maria was 
the favourite sister, and she was tall and very 
beautiful. Her hair and eyes were dark and her 
smile showed through gleaming white teeth. 
Her marriage chest was ready, her dowry was 
earned, and a cousin of the family had acted as 
‘‘ go-between ” between Uncle Georgios and 
the father of the young man who wished to 
marry Maria. His name was Mathos Pappa- 
diamantopoulas, and he had seen Maria as she 
walked spinning in the fields. 

Generally in Greece the parents arrange the 
piarriages and the young people scarcely see 


Marias Wedding 


13 


each other before the marriage ceremony binds 
them together. Maria’s, however, was quite a 
love match, for she and Mathos had grown up 
together and had been waiting only for the 
dowry to go to housekeeping in a little white 
cottage near to that of her mother. 

Mathos had often been beneath Maria’s 
window and had called his sweetheart all the 
fond names he could think of. She was in turn 
“ cold water” (always sweet to a Grecian be- 
cause good water is so scarce in that country), 
a ‘‘ lemon tree,” and a ‘‘ little bird.” He had 
sung to her many love songs, among them the 
Ballad of the Basil. 

“ If I should die of love, my love, my grave with basil 
strew, 

And let some tears fall there, my life, for one who died 
for you, 

Agape mon-ou-ou ! ** 

Maria’s prekas * was a fine one. Her father 
and brothers had determined that. 

I Powiy. 


14 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

‘‘ She shall not be made ashamed before any 
man. If I never marry, Maria shall have a good 
dowry,” said Marco. 

When the list of what she would give to the 
furnishing of the little home was made for the 
groom there was a strange array, a bedstead, 
a dresser, a chair, sheets and pillowcases, 
blankets and quilts. There were copper kettles 
and saucepans of many sizes and shapes, and 
the lovely homespun linens were beautifully 
embroidered. 

Early in the morning of the wedding day, 
Mathos’ friends helped him carry the praekika ' 
from the bride’s old home to her new one. Not 
a single pocket handkerchief but was noted on 
the list Mathos’ best man had made, and it would 
have been a disgrace to all the family of Mez- 
zorios had there been even a pin missing from 
all that had been agreed upon when the match 
was arranged. 


* Wedding things. 


Maria's Wedding 15 

Musicians played the guitar and mandolin, 
as Maria sat straight upright upon a sofa. She 
was a little white and frightened, but looked 
very pretty in her white dress embroidered in 
gold, her yellow embroidered kerchief over her 
head. Zoe, with the other children, had been 
flying around the room ready, whenever the 
mastiche paste was passed on a tray, to take a 
spoon from the pile and gouge out a taste of the 
sweet stuff. 

“ Maria looks lonely,” she said to Marco. 
“ Tm glad Tm not in her place.” 

“ She’ll be all right now,” he said as the cry 
“ He comes ! ” was heard outside. Zoe ran 
to the door. She had never seen a wedding in 
Thessaly and was very curious to see what it 
was like. Little Yanne Ghoromokos was com- 
ing up the street carrying a tray on which rested 
two wreaths of flowers and two large candles 
tied with white ribbon. Behind him was 
Mathos, looking very foolish, surrounded by 
his friends. 


1 6 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ I shall not marry a man who looks like 
that,” said Zoe to Marco, who stood beside her. 

“ What is wrong with him ? ” asked Marco, 
who liked to hear his little cousin talk, her 
remarks were so quaint and wise. 

“ He looks very unhappy, as if this were a 
funeral,” she said, “ or as if he were afraid of 
something. When I marry, my husband shall be 
glad.” 

“ That he should be,” said Marco smiling, 
and showing his white teeth. 

Mathos meanwhile made his way into the 
house and sat down on the sofa by Maria. He 
did not look at her, for that would have been 
contrary to etiquette, but over the girl’s face 
there stole a warm and lovely colour which made 
her more beautiful than ever. 

All the men present looked at her and all the 
women, old and young, kissed the groom, and 
each woman made him the present of a silk 
handkerchief. Then it was time for the wedding 


M aria s W edding 1 7 

ceremony and Zoe’s eyes were big with won- 
der. 

On the table were placed a prayer book, a 
plate of candies, as the priest, old Papa Petro 
took his stand near by. Maria came forward 
with her father and Mathos and his best man 
stood beside her. To the child’s great wonder 
and delight, Zoe was to be bridesmaid, for 
Maria had said to her mother, 

“ Let Zoe be bridesmaid. It will please her 
and she is a good little thing.” And Aunt Anna 
had answered, 

“ What ever you want, my child.” 

Zoe, therefore, in a new frock, with a rose 
pinned in her black hair, stood proudly beside 
Maria at the altar. She watched the queer 
ceremony in silence. First Papa Petro gave 
the groom a lighted candle and asked him if 
he would take Maria for his wife ; then Maria 
received a candle and was asked if she would 
take Mathos for her husband, after which the 


1 8 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

priest sang the Kyrie Eleison and made a long, 
long prayer. 

He blessed the two rings laid on the tray 
before him, giving one to the bride and one to 
the groom. The best man quickly took them 
off the fingers of each, exchanged them, and put 
the bride’s on the groom’s finger, giving his to 
her. 

Papa Petro next put a wreath on the head of 
each and the best man exchanged them, and 
the ceremony continued, but of it Zoe saw 
little. She was so overcome by the sight of 
Mathos’ red, perspiring face, surmounted by 
the wreath of white blossoms, and looking silly 
but happy, that she had all she could do to keep 
from laughing. 

She was so astonished a moment later that 
she nearly disgraced herself, for the rest of the 
ceremony was like nothing she had ever seen 
before. The priest took the hand of the best 
man, he took that of the groom, and he held his 


Maria’s Wedding 


19 


bride by the hand, and all, priest, best man, 
groom and bride, danced three times around the 
altar, while the guests pelted the dancers with 
candies, and Zoe stood in open-mouthed amaze- 
ment, until Marco threw a candy into her 
mouth and nearly choked her. Then the cere- 
mony was over and everybody kissed the bride 
and her wreath, which brings good luck. 

What do you think of being bridesmaid ” 
asked Marco. 

“ It is very nice, but I was afraid I should 
laugh,’’ answered Zoe. “ What do they do now, 
Marco ? ” 

“ Maria must go to her husband’s house. 
She is starting now. Come, let us follow.” 

They went with the bridal couple down the 
village street, and at her door lay a pomegranate. 
Upon this the bride stepped for good fortune 
with her children. Then Mathos’ mother tied 
the arms of the two together with a handkerchief 
and they entered their own home. They drank a 


20 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

cup of wine together and turned to receive the 
congratulations of their friends. 

“ Marco, it is your turn next. Beware lest 
a Nereid get you,’’ said Mathos, laughing. 

‘‘ I am not afraid of a Nereid,” said Marco 
hastily crossing himself. 

“ Once I saw one upon the hillside when I 
was watching the sheep,” said an old man. 
“ She was so beautiful I crept up to seize her 
in my arms and behold ! she turned into a bear 
and then a snake. The bear I held but the 
snake I let go. Then I saw her no more.” 

“ Upon the river bank of Kephissos,” said 
an old woman, “ dwell three Nereids. They 
are sisters. Two are fair but one is ugly and 
crippled. My mother lived there and she has 
often told me that she heard the fays talking and 
laughing in the reeds along the shore. The 
pretty sisters like children and love to play with 
mortals. Sometimes they steal away little folk 
when they have stayed out at night in dis- 


Marias Wedding 21 

obedience to their mothers. They take them 
to their home in the reeds, but the lame sister 
is jealous of pretty children and when she is 
sent to take them home, she pinches them. My 
mother has with her two eyes seen the black 
and blue marks of pinches upon the arms of 
children who did not always stay in the house 
after dark. And where my mother lived they 
say always to naughty children, ‘ Beware ! the 
lame Nereid will get you ! * ” 

“ Be careful, Zoe,’’ said Marco. “ Be a good 
child and keep within when it is dark, else you 
shall see the Nereid.’* 

‘‘ God forbid ! ” said Zoe, quickly crossing 
herself, ‘‘ I should die of fright.” 


CHAPTER III 


THE ANTIQUE CUP 

Fall had come with its cool, sunny days and 
Aunt Anna was cooking beans, symbols of the 
autumn fruits in honour of the old Feast of 
Apollo. Olive branches were hung over the 
door of the house to bring luck, as in the olden 
times olive boughs hung with figs and cakes, 
with jars of oil and wine were carried by youths 
to the temples. Upon the hillsides the vineyards 
hung, purple with fruit and winter wheat was 
sown in the fields. 

Zoe had begun to go to school and the baby- 
coula wept for her. She did not at all believe 
in education since it took away her willing slave 
and devoted attendant, but in Greece all children 
are compelled to go to school and learn at least 
to read and write and do simple sums. 


22 


23 


The Antique Cup 

Zoe enjoyed the school very much. She 
liked the walk in the fresh morning air and she 
liked to learn, but most of all she liked the stories 
which her teacher told whenever they were good 
children, stories of the days when Greece was 
the greatest nation of the earth, her women were 
famous for beauty and virtue, her men were 
warriors and statesmen. 

She learned of Lycurgus, the great lawgiver, 
of Pericles, the statesman, of Alexander, the great 
general, and of the heroes of Thermopylae. All 
these tales she retold to her cousins and many 
were the hours she kept them listening spell- 
bound. 

It was not far from here, the Pass of Ther- 
mopylae,’* she said. “ Some day I shall ask 
Marco to take us there. The story tells of how 
Leonidas was king of Sparta and the cruel 
Persians came to conquer Greece. Xerxes was 
the Persian king and he had a big army, oh, 
ever so many times larger than the Grecian. 


24 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


Well, the only way to keep out the Persians was 
to keep them from coming through the Pass of 
Thermopylae, so Leonidas took three hundred 
men and went to hold the Pass. For two days 
they held it, and kept the Persians from coming 
in, and they could have held out longer but for 
treachery. A miserable man, for money, told 
the Persians a secret path across the mountains, 
so they crept up behind the Grecians and 
attacked them. When Leonidas found they were 
surrounded, he made up his mind that he and his 
men must die, but that they should die as brave 
men. They fought the Persians so fiercely that 
the Pass ran with blood and several times the 
Persians fell back; others took their places, but 
these too turned back, and the Persian king 
said, 

‘‘ ‘ What manner of men are these who, but 
a handful can keep back my whole army ? * and 
one of his men replied, 

‘‘ ‘ Sire, your men fight at your will ; these 


The Antique Cup 25 

Grecians fight for their country and their 
wives ! * 

‘‘ But at last the end came. Leonidas fell, 
covered with wounds, and without him his men 
could withstand no longer. One by one they 
fell, each with his sword in hand, his face to the 
foe, and when the last one fell, the Persians, 
with a great shout, rushed through the Pass over 
the dead bodies of the heroes.’* 

“ That’s a fine story,” said Georgios. “ But 
I sha’n’t wait for Marco. I shall go to see the 
Pass for myself.” 

“ No, no ! ” said Zoe. “ You must not. Aunt 
Anna would be angry. It is quite too far and 
it is in the mountains; you might meet a brig- 
and.” 

But Georgios said only, “ Pooh ! I can take 
care of myself,” and looked sulky. It was 
rather hard for Zoe to look after him. He was a 
mischievous boy, only a year younger than she 
was, and he thought himself quite as old. He 


26 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


did not like it at all when his mother told him 
to mind what Zoe said and often he did things 
just to provoke her. This particular Saturday 
he was in bad temper because he had wished 
to go to the mountains with Marco and his 
brother would not take him. 

Another time I will take you,” said Marco. 
“ But to-day I am in haste. Stay with the girls 
and be a good little boy.” 

“ Stay with the girls ! ” muttered Georgios. 
“ It is always stay with the girls. Some day 
I will show them I am big enough to take care 
of myself.” 

So he felt cross and did not enjoy Zoe’s stories 
as much as usual. 

“ Not long ago,” said Zoe, for the other 
children were listening with rapt interest, 
“ some shepherds were tending their flocks on 
the hills and one of them dug a hole in the 
ground to make a fire that they might cook their 
food. As he placed the stones to make his 


The Antique Cup 


27 


oven, he saw something sticking out of the 
ground and leaned down to see what it was. 
It looked like a queer kettle of some kind and he 
dug it out and examined it. He cleaned the 
dirt from it and it turned out to be an old 
helmet, rusted and tarnished, but still good. 
He took it and showed it to the teacher in the 
village and he said it was very, very old and 
might have belonged to one of Leonidas^ men. 
So the master sent it to Athens and there they 
said that it was very valuable, and that the 
writing upon it showed that it had been at 
Thermopylae. They put it in the great museum 
at Athens, and paid the shepherd a great many 
drachmas^ for it, so many that he could have for 
himself a house and need not herd sheep for 
another man, but have his own flocks. 

“Wish I could find one,” said Georgios. 
“ I heard my father say we needed money very 
badly. There are so many of us ! I wish I was 
* A Grecian coin worth about twenty cents. 


28 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

big ! ” and the boy’s face grew dark. Zoe’s 
clouded too. 

‘‘ I am but another mouth to feed,” she 
thought; but Aunt Anna’s voice, calling them 
to come to the midday meal, put her thoughts 
to flight. 

It was not until after the little siesta they all 
took after luncheon that she thought of what 
Georgios had said. 

‘‘ How I wish I could find something of value,” 
she thought to herself. ‘‘ I am not of much use 
except that I try to help with the children. Oh, 
I wonder what Georgios is doing now ! ” she 
thought suddenly. She could not hear him 
and when Georgios was quiet he was generally 
naughty. 

“ Where is Georgios ” she asked the children, 
but they did not know. Only little Anna had 
seen him and she said that he had run quickly 
down the road a little while before. 

“ You must stay with the babycoula here on 


The Antique Cup 


29 


the door step/’ Zoe said to the little girls, calling 
to her aunt within the house, “ Aunt Anna, 
I am going to find Georgios, he is not here.” 

“ Very well,” said her aunt, and Zoe set off 
down the road. ‘‘ Georgios ! ” she called. 
There was no answer, but she thought she saw 
the tracks of his feet in the dust of the road. 

“ Perhaps he has gone to the river,” she said 
to herself, ‘‘ to try to fish,” and hastily she ran 
to the bank but there was no little boy in a red 
tasselled cap in sight. She hurried back to the 
road. 

“ I am afraid he has tried to go and see the 
Pass,” she thought. “ It would be just like him, 
for he said he would not wait for Marco. Oh, 
dear ! I must find him. Aunt Anna will think 
it my fault if he is lost or anything happens to 
him.” She hurried onward, calling and looking 
everywhere but found not a trace of the naughty 
little boy. It seemed as if he had disappeared 
from the face of the earth, and she murmured 
to herself, 


30 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ Oh, if he has gone to the river and a Nereid 
has stolen him ! Perhaps he has run to the 
mountain and a brigand has found him ! I 
must bring him home. Good St. Georgios, 
who killed the terrible dragon, help me to find 
your name-child ! Oh, dear, of course the saints 
hear us, but it would be ever so much nicer if 
they would answer ! ” she thought. Then she 
had little time to think more, for her whole mind 
was bent upon finding the naughty boy whom, 
with all his naughtiness, she dearly loved. She 
hurried up the hill, peering under every bush, 
behind every tree, beginning to think that per- 
haps something had happened to the child. 
She went on and on until the shadows of twi- 
light began to gather and she grew more and 
more frightened. Beneath her on the mountain- 
side flowed a little stream and she peered into 
its silver depths wondering if perhaps Georgios 
could have fallen into it. Then in her eagerness 
she leaned too far, lost her balance and fell. 



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31 


The Antique Cup 

Down, down she tumbled, rolling over and over 
on the soft grass until she reached the bottom 
of the hill. She lay still for a few moments 
then sat up and looked about her. 

She was in a spot in which she had never been 
before, a pretty little glen, where the silvery 
stream ran over white pebbles with a soft, mur- 
muring sound. Ferns grew tall and green, 
delicate wild flowers bloomed among them, 
the air was fragrant with the pines which grew 
overhead, and the whole spot was like a fairy 
dell. She tried to rise, but frowned with pain, 
for she had hurt her foot. So she sat thinking, 
“ I will rest a minute and then go on and find 
Georgios.*’ 

As she sat thinking she noticed a queer place 
hollowed out by the water. Something lay there 
half covered with earth and she stooped to see 
what it was. 

“ Perhaps I shall find something like the 
shepherd did,” she thought, but with sharp 


32 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


disappointment she found that the object which 
had caught her eye was but a queer little cup 
black with red figures around the rim, and with 
two handles, one at each side. It had the figure 
of a woman at one side and Zoe thought it rather 
pretty. 

“ It is not of any use,” she said to herself, 
“ It is but someone’s old cup. But I shall take 
it home for the babycoula to play with. She 
will think it is nice.” So she tucked it into her 
pocket and got up to go. Her ankle hurt but 
not so badly that she could not walk. She wet 
her kerchief and tied it around the swollen joint 
and climbed up the hill which she had rolled 
down so unexpectedly. At the top she stopped 
and called as loudly as she could, “ Georgios, 
Georgios ! ” 

An answering shout of ‘‘ Zoe ! ” came from 
below and her heart gave a glad leap. She 
turned her steps downward and Marco met her 
ere she was half way down. 


33 


The Antique Cup 

‘‘ Child, what are you doing here ? ” he asked. 

Is Georgios found ? I came to seek him ! ” 
she cried. 

“ He was not lost, that bad boy ! ’’ said Marco. 
“ When I reached home I found my mother 
disturbed in her mind because you had dis- 
appeared and the little girls said you had gone 
to the mountain to find Georgios. Him I found 
by the river fishing and he said that you had 
called but that he had not answered. He will 
answer the next time,” and Marco’s voice told 
Zoe that he had made it unpleasant for Georgios. 
“ Then I came on to seek you. Poor child ! 
you must have had a hard climb.” 

“ Oh, I did not mind,” said Zoe. “ Only 1 
fell and hurt my ankle. I am glad Georgios 
was not lost. He might have answered me, 
though,” and her lip quivered. 

“ He was a bad boy,” said Marco, “ and 
did it just to tease you. Let me see your ankle. 
It is badly bruised, but not sprained, I think. 


34 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

Come, I will help you home,’* and he put his 
arm around her. 

It took Zoe some time to get home for walking 
on the lame ankle tired her and often Marco 
stopped her to rest. 

“ What is it you have in your hand ? ” he 
asked her, as they sat down to rest beneath 
a giant fir. 

‘‘ Oh, it is nothing,” she said. “ Just a queer 
little cup I found and thought Baby Domna 
might like to play with.” 

“ Let me see it,” said Marco, and he examined 
it carefully. “ Where did you find it ? ” he 
asked at length and Zoe answered, 

“ When I fell by the river it lay in the dirt. 
Is it too dirty for the babycoula ? ” 

“ Zoe,” Marco looked strangely excited. “ I 
believe this old cup is of great value.” 

“ Oh Marco ! ” the little girl could say no 
more. 

** Yes,” he said. “ I may be mistaken, but 


35 


The Antique Cup 

I think it is very old and that it is like some 
cups I saw in Athens. They were sold for many 
drachmas. They were black like this with a 
little red on them, in lines and figures, and with 
two handles. A man in my regiment said they 
were of ancient pottery and that they were dug 
up out of the earth. He said the museum at 
Athens paid good prices for such things.” 

“ Oh Marco ! ” Zoe’s eyes were like stars. 
‘‘ If it would only turn out that this was worth 
something, even a little, how happy I should 
be ! I want money so badly.” 

“ What do you want it for ? ” Marco looked 
surprised. 

“ To give to Aunt Anna, of course,” said Zoe, 
surprised in her turn. “ Georgios said to-day 
that your father needed money and Aunt Anna 
needs many things.” The child said it so simply 
that one would have supposed she never needed 
anything for herself, and Marco caught her 
hand with a sudden impulse. 


36 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ You are a strange little one/' he said. “ If 
this turns out to be worth any money, you shall 
have it all to spend, every cent.” 

“ For whatever I want ? ” asked Zoe in sur- 
prise. 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Marco. 

“ Then I shall buy a dress for Aunt Anna 
and for each of the little girls a new one that has 
not been made over from someone’s else. And 
something I shall buy for each one of the family, 
most of all for the babycoula, since I meant to 
take the cup to her. And all the rest I shall give 
to Uncle Georgios, for I am such an expense 
to him.” 

“ That you are not,” said Marco. “ My 
mother said but yesterday that she did not know 
how she would ever get along without you.” 

“ Did she really .? ” Zoe’s face flushed with 
pleasure. “ My foot is much better, we must 
go on now, it grows so late.” 

So they hastened home and Zoe met a warm 


37 


The Antique Cup 

welcome, even Georgios hugging her and saying 
he was sorry he had sent her on such a wild 
goose chase. Her cup was displayed and 
wondered at, and later, when Papa Petro sent 
it to a priest in Athens and he sold it for many 
drachmas, Zoe was delighted and insisted upon 
giving the money to her uncle for all of them to 
share. Many comforts it brought for the family, 
besides paying the debts which had been worry- 
ing her uncle. And mischievous Georgios said 
airily, 

“ It was all due to me that the cup was found ; 
for, if Zoe had not gone to find me, she would 
never have fallen down the hill on top of it.’’ 

‘‘ Nevertheless,” said Marco sternly, “ do 
not let me catch you playing any such tricks 
on your cousin again, or you will find something 
not so pleasant as antique cups. She’s too good 
a little girl to tease.” 

And Zoe said in her soft little voice, ‘‘ Oh, 


Marco.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE ‘‘ AGIASMO ” 

Maria had a little son. Mathos was almost 
beside himself with delight, and the young 
mother was beautiful in her happiness. Her 
pretty face, always sweet, took on a deeper 
loveliness as she gazed on the little creature, so 
pink and white and dear, and Zoe thought she 
had never seen anything sweeter than her cousin 
and the baby together. Zoe had cared for her 
Aunt’s babies so well that she was quite an au- 
thority and Maria trusted her with the little 
treasure when she would look anxiously at 
anyone else who took him up. He was indeed 
a joy. Serene and healthy, he lay all day, quite 
happy in the fact that he was able to get his tiny 
thumb in his mouth. 


38 



JiiAMTi4A 1 ^. 




PAPA PtTRO CAME RIDING DOWN FROM HIS HOUSE ON A 


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The '' Agiasmo 39 

Maria had made her visit at Church on the 
fortieth day after the baby was born and Papa 
Petro had taken the little angel in his arms and 
walked thrice around the altar with him. Now 
the time had come when the good old priest 
was to christen the baby, and all the relatives 
and friends assembled to see the ceremony. 

Papa Petro came riding down from his house 
on a tiny donkey. He was a dear old man with 
a wise, kindly face. He had been all his priestly 
life over the one parish, and his people were 
dear to him. They in turn loved him devotedly 
and he was always welcomed joyfully at any 
festivity. 

Before the christening he blessed the house, 
performing the agiasmo or blessing, with great 
earnestness. First he took off his tall hat and 
let down his hair which was long and snowy 
white and usually worn in a knob at the back 
of his head. Then he set a basin of water and 
some incense before the eikon which was hung 


40 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

in a corner of the room. Every Grecian home 
has its eikon or picture of a saint or the Blessed 
Virgin. The incense he placed in a bowl and 
lighted it, the smoke rising and filling the room 
with a strong perfume. He read the prayers 
which keep off the evil spirits in an impressive 
manner, and then turned his attention to the 
christening. 

Baby Mathos, very cunning in his new cap, 
was set down before the eikon which bore the 
pictured face of the saint to whom he was to be 
dedicated. That was the signal for all the 
women present to rush for his cap, the one who 
secured the coveted bit of lace and muslin being 
the godmother. Zoe was the lucky one, and she 
stood proudly up beside Maria and the god- 
father, who had been Mathos’ best man. The 
nounos' had given baby his fine new dress and 
had come prepared for all that a godfather 
must do. 


* God-father. 


The Agiasmo 


41 


The babycoula was then undressed and held 
up to the priest in Zoe's proud arms for Papa 
Petro to cut three hairs from the tiny head and 
throw them into the baptismal font. This was 
filled with water into which the godfather had 
poured a little olive oil. 

Baby Mathos was then held to the west, to 
represent the kingdom of darkness, and Papa 
Petro asked three times, “ Do you renounce the 
devil and all his works .? ’’ To this the god- 
father replied, “ I do renounce them.*’ At 
this the priest and godfather turned toward the 
east with the baby and the baby was plunged 
three times into the water. Baby squealed and 
kicked, and Zoe smiled, for if a baby does not 
cry at the water it is very bad luck, showing that 
the Evil One has not gone out of him. The 
babycoula did his little best to assure the com- 
pany that he had no evil spirit left within, howl- 
ing wrathfully after he was dried and anointed 
with holy oils, refusing to stop even when prayed 


42 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


over at length, only smiling when, the ceremony 
over, the nounos gave some drachmas to his 
parents and threw a whole handful of lepta ‘ 
among the children present. 

“ He is generous with his witness money,’* 
whispered Zoe to Maria and she smiled happily. 

“ Our little one will have the best of god- 
parents,” Maria said sweetly. ‘‘ You to love 
him and Loukas to think of his welfare.” 

Papa Petro dipped an olive branch in holy 
water and sprinkled the rooms of the little 
cottage, then he sat down beside Maria, tied up 
his hair and took a cup of coffee. Everyone 
was served to glasses of water and sweets and 
everybody talked and laughed and said what a 
beautiful little Christian the babycoula was ! 
As each one admired the baby Maria coloured 
and looked anxious and fingered the blue beads 
about her darling’s neck. 

“ What have you for a charm against the evil 

‘ Small copper coin. 


The '' Agiasmo 


43 


eye ? ’’ asked Papa Petro, kindly. Ah, I see, 
the blue beads. Well, that is good. Blue is the 
Blessed Virgin’s colour and the Panageia* will 
be your help. However, I have brought you a 
bit of crooked coral which I have always found 
good.” 

“ It is most kind of you,” said Maria prettily, 
as she hung the precious spray of coral at the 
babycoula’s throat. Zoe smiled to herself. She 
had not intended to run any risk that her 
cousin’s little baby should be marked with the 
evil eye, which can be put on a child just by 
admiring it. So, for the baby was so pretty she 
had felt sure it would be admired all day, she 
had put a bit of soot behind his ear, for that will 
ward off any evil eye. It is a sure charm. 
Therefore she felt quite satisfied even though 
every one present did say that the baby was 
perfectly beautiful. Then she held the little 
thing up before a mirror, for that would insure 

‘All Holy One. 


44 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


another baby in the family before the close of the 
year, and as the Grecians love children dearly 
they are glad to have many of them. 

The baby had so many pieces of white stuff 
given to him that the little house looked as if it 
had been in a snow storm. No polite person 
would come to see a new baby and not give it 
something white, even if it were only an egg, 
for such a gift insures to the infant a lovely 
fair complexion. 

Thus was Baby Mathos started on his journey 
as a Christian with all good omens, and his little 
godmother went home in the cool of the evening, 
happy in all of the pleasures of the day. 

‘‘ It was lovely. Aunt Anna ! ” she said to her 
aunt. “ Was it not ? Maria’s baby is a dear 
little fellow. He is my own godchild and I love 
him dearly, but of course not more than our own 
babycoula,” and she buried her face in Baby 
Domna’s neck. The baby crowed and cooed 
and patted Zoe’s face with her tiny chubby 


The '' Agiasmo 


45 


hands and pulled her hair and acted in the en- 
trancing way in which only a baby can act and 
Zoe laughed back at her and hugged her tight. 

“ You’re my own babycoula,” she said. “ And 
I love you better than anything.” 

“ Better than you do me Oh shame ! ” 
said Marco teasing, while Aunt Anna, like every 
other good mother pleased with the attention her 
baby received, smiled upon her. Marco, how- 
ever, looked very solemn and said reproachfully, 

“ I thought you would never like any baby 
better than me ! ” 

“ But you are not a baby,” said Zoe, and 
Aunt Anna said, 

I am not so sure that he is not. But do not 
mind him, he is only teasing. You are a good 
child, Zoe,” and little Zoe went happily to bed 
her heart warm at the thought that everybody 
seemed to love her, if she was an orphan and far 
away from home. 

“ It is only love that counts,” she murmured 


46 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

to herself sleepily and fell asleep with a smile on 
her face, as the silver moon streamed through 
her window and the air came in soft and kind, 
fragrant with the breath of spring. 


CHAPTER V 


A VISIT TO MARCO 

The winter passed quietly to Zoe and spring 
came with its glories of cloud and flower and 
sunshine. Men began to plough in the fields 
with quaint old-fashioned, one-handled ploughs, 
drawn by great strong oxen. Snows still crested 
Ossa and Pelion, and beautiful Olympus, in 
snow-crowned grandeur golden in the morning’s 
glow, turned to rose in the evening sunset. 

Marco had gone far up the mountain side to 
herd for a rich farmer who had many goats. 
He watched the herds all day and, when they 
were safely housed for the night, camped in a 
rough little hut on the hillside. 

Zoe missed him from the cottage, for of all her 

cousins she most loved Marco. She was very 

47 


48 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

happy therefore when her Aunt Anna told her 
one day that she might carry a basket of food to 
the mountain. 

She started off happily, running along the 
village street into the open country, going more 
slowly up the hillside, where the early wild- 
flowers were beginning to bloom. 

She reached the little hut where Marco slept, 
nearly at sundown but he was not there, so she 
sat down to wait for him. The sun was stream- 
ing in a golden glory and the Vale of Tempe 
opened before her as fair as when the god Apollo 
slept beneath its elms and oaks, wild figs and 
plane trees. Zoe loved everything beautiful and 
she sat and looked eagerly at the lovely scene. 

‘Mt is almost as pretty as my own Argolis,’’ 
she said aloud, and then gave a little sigh. 

‘‘ Still homesick, little one } ” Marco’s voice 
said close behind her, and she sprang to her feet 
in astonishment. He seemed to have sprung 
from the ground, so quickly had he come upon 
her. 


A Visit to Marco 


49 

‘‘ Oh, Marco ! ’’ she said. “ I did not hear 
you come. I am so glad to see you. It has been 
lonely at home without you.” 

“ I have missed you, too. It is good of you 
to come to see me,” he said. 

“ Aunt Anna sent me with fresh cheese and 
eggs and bread for your supper,” she told him. 
“ This is a beautiful place isn’t it, Marco ?” 

“ It is indeed,” he answered. “ Like a fine 
old man, Mt. Olympus always has snow upon 
his head. See how the clouds float about the 
summit; you know that was the home of the 
gods in the old days. ‘ Not by wind is it shaken 
nor ever wet with rain, but cloudless upper air is 
spread about it and a bright radiance floats over 
it.” 

“ Papa Petro says we must not talk of the gods 
of olden times, for they were heathen,” said Zoe 
primly. ‘‘ But they were interesting. Where 
did you learn so much, Marco ^ ” 

“ It is not much I know,” he said with a 


50 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


laugh. ‘‘ But when I was in Athens I took 
service with a man from America. He knew 
much. He read ancient Greek and when I told 
him I was a Grecian from near Mt. Olympus, 
he asked many questions about Thessaly and 
the way we live here. In return he told me much 
of our Ancient Grecian stories. He told me of 
Jason and his adventures after the Golden 
Fleece, of Perseus and Theseus and many 
others.” 

** Tell me some of them,” demanded Zoe 
eagerly. 

“ Well, Perseus was the son of Danae, and a 
god was his father. He was taller and stronger 
and handsomer than any of the princes of the 
court and the king hated him. But Pallas 
Athene, the beautiful goddess of wisdom, 
loved him and helped him and took him under 
her protection. She gave him a task to perform, 
to rid the land of the horrible Gorgon Medusa, 
whose hair was a thousand snakes and whose 


A Visit to Marco 51 

face was so horrible that no man could look 
upon it and live. That Medusa might not kill 
Perseus, Athene gave him a magic shield and 
told him to look into the shield and seeing there 
the Gorgon’s image, strike ! He was to wrap the 
head in a goat’s skin and bring it back. She 
gave him also Herme, the magic sword, and 
sandals with which he might cross the sea and 
even float through the air. They would guide 
him, too, for they knew the way and could not 
lose the path. 

“ So Perseus started out, and he flew through 
the air like a bird. And many were the dangers 
which he met, but all he overcame. Far was 
the journey, but he made it with a light heart. 
He went until he came to Atlas, the giant who 
holds the world on his shoulders, and of his 
daughters, the gentle Hesperides, he asked his 
way. And they said to him, ‘ You must have 
the hat of darkness so that you can see but not 
be seen.’ 


52 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ ‘ And where is that hat ? ’ he asked. And 
Atlas said to him, 

“ ‘ No mortal can find it, but if you will 
promise me one thing, I will send one of my 
daughters, the Hesperides for it.’ 

“ ‘ I will promise,’ said Perseus. ‘ If it is a 
thing I may do.’ 

“ ‘ When you have cut off the Gorgon’s head, 
which turns all who see it into stone,’ said 
Atlas, ‘ promise me that you will bring it here 
that I may see it and turn to stone. For I must 
hold up the world till the end of time, and my 
arms and legs are so weary that I should be glad 
never to feel again.’ So Perseus promised, and 
one of the Hesperides brought him the hat of 
darkness, which she found in the region of Hades. 
Then Perseus went on and on until at last he 
came to the Gorgons’ lair. And he put on the 
hat of darkness and came close to the evil 
beasts. There were three of them, but Medusa 
was the worst, for he saw in the mirror that her 


A Visit to Marco 


53 


head was covered with vipers. He struck her 
quickly with his sword, cut off* her head and 
wrapped it in the goat’s skin. Then, flying up- 
ward with his magic sandals, he fled from the 
wrath of the other two Gorgons, who followed 
fast. They could not catch him, for the sandals 
bore him too swiftly. Remembering his promise 
he came to Atlas, and Atlas looked but once 
upon the face of Medusa and he was turned to 
stone. They say that there he sits to this day, 
holding up the earth. Then Perseus said fare- 
well to the Hesperides, thanking them, and he 
turned away toward his home. 

‘‘ He flew over mountains and valleys by sea 
and land for weary days and nights. As he came 
to the water of the blue Aegean sea, there he 
found a strange thing, for, chained to a rock, 
was a maiden, beautiful as day, who wept and 
called aloud to her mother. 

“ ^ What are you doing here ? ’ demanded 
Perseus, and she answered, 


54 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


‘ Fair youth, I am chained here to be a 
victim to the Sea God, who comes at daybreak 
to devour me. Men call me Andromeda, and my 
mother boasted that I was fairer than the queen 
of the fishes, so that the queen is angry and has 
sent storm and earthquake upon my people. 
They sacrifice me thus to appease her wrath. 
Depart, for you can be of no help to me and I 
would not that you see the monster devour me.’ 

“ ‘ I shall help you, and that right promptly,’ 
said Perseus, who loved her for her beauty and 
her sweetness. So he took his sword and cut 
her chains in two, and he took her in his arms 
and said, 

“ ‘ You are the fairest maiden I have ever 
seen. I shall free you from this monster and 
then you shall be my wife.’ And she smiled 
upon him, for she loved him for his strength and 
for his brave words. 

“The sea monster was a fearful beast. His 
jaws were wide open and his tail lashed the 


A Visit to Marco 55 

waters as he rushed toward the maiden. She 
screamed and hid her face, but Perseus dropped 
down from the rock, right on the monster’s back, 
and slew him with his gleaming sword. Then 
Perseus took Andromeda and flew to her home, 
and her parents received him with joy, giving 
him their daughter and begging him to stay with 
them. That he could not do, because of his 
promise to Pallas Athene. So he took his bride, 
and her father gave him a great ship and he re- 
turned to his mother like a hero, with his galley 
and much gold and treasure, the marriage 
portion of Andromeda. The wicked king was 
not glad to see him and would have had him 
killed, but Perseus held up to him the head of 
Medusa and it turned the king to stone. Then 
Perseus reigned in his stead, and one night in a 
dream Pallas Athene came to him and said, 

“ ‘ You have kept your promise and brought 
back the Gorgon’s head. Give back to me the 
sword, the sandals, the shield and the hat of 


56 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


darkness, that I may give each to whom it be- 
longs/ And when he awoke they were all 
gone. 

“Then he went home to his own land of Argos 
and there he lived in happiness with Andromeda, 
and they had fair sons and daughters, and men 
say that when they died they were borne by the 
gods to the heavens, and that there one can still 
see, on fair nights of summer, Andromeda and 
her deliverer Perseus.” 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed Zoe, with a long drawn 
breath of delight. “ What a lovely story ! But, 
Marco, why don’t people do such brave things as 
that now days ? ” 

“ There are just as brave men now as there 
were in the old times,” said Marco, his eyes 
kindling. “ In my regiment they tell a story of 
a Grecian soldier in our War for Independence. 
Beside him marched a comrade, a man from his 
own island. They had played together as boys 
and had always been friends. But the other 


A Visit to Marco 


57 


fellow had married the girl whom Spiro loved, 
and he had a sore heart about that. The regi- 
ment was up in the mountains and was attacked 
by the Turks and Spiro’s friend captured. Spiro 
wept, but that was not all. He went to his 
captain and begged that he might be sent to the 
Turks in exchange for his friend. His captain 
said it was impossible, that the Turks would not 
accept him in exchange, but would kill both. 
Spiro said, ‘ My captain, if they did accept 
me it would be well. Let me go.’ 

“ ‘ You are a silly fellow,’ said the captain. 
‘ I cannot give you any permission. If you 
can get word to the Turks and they will accept 
you, then you may go.’ This he said because 
he was sure the Turks would but laugh at such 
an idea of Spiro. But Spiro thanked him with 
tears of joy. Then he went to a man in the 
regiment who could write. ‘ Will you write a 
letter just as I say it ’ he asked and his friend 
said that he would. Here is the letter, 


58 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ ‘ To the most noble general of the Turks/ 
it began, 

“ ‘ I am Spiro Rhizares of the Grecian 

Infantry. I salute your Worship. You have 
captured a man of my regiment, one Yanne 
Petropoulas. He is a better man than I am but 
I am good enough to kill. I am taller than he 
so there is more of me to die. He has a wife and 
I have not, so there is more need for him to live. 
Wives take money; he should not be killed, for 
then there is no one to buy bread and garlic 
and embroidered kerchiefs for Evangoula. She 
is a good wife, but even good women must have 
loukoumi and coloured kerchiefs to keep them 
good. I ask you therefore to have the great 
kindness to kill me, Ejfendi, in place of Yanne, 
and I think he would not object. If therefore, 
your Worship will consent send me word, but 
do not speak of it to Yanne, since he might feel 
a disappointment that he might not die for his 
country at your most worshipful hands. Asking 


A Visit to Marco 


59 


your Graciousness to send me word when I shall 
have to the pleasure to be killed, I sign myself, 
through the hands of a comrade, since I am too 
ignorant a fellow to write (you see I am fit only 
to kill). With respect, 

“ ‘ Spiro Rhizares/ 

“ This letter Spiro sent through the mountain 
passes by a shepherd boy and awaited an an- 
swer. At last one came. It was short. 

“ ‘ To one Spiro Rhizares, — th, Grecian 
Infantry. 

‘‘‘Sir: — Since you are wishing to feel the 
edge of a Turkish scimiter, come and be killed. 
When you are dead your friend shall go free. 
This on the honour of a Turk. I promise be- 
cause I know you will not come. You thought 
to work on my heart. I have no heart for Greeks. 
As we will kill all your men in a few months, you 
may as well die now if you like. Your friend I 
will send back. (Signed) Selim Pasha.’ 


6o Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“Spiro was like a fellow mad with joy. He 
sent all his money to Evangoula, gave his things 
to his comrades, and, lest he be hindered, stole 
off in the night. He reached the Turkish camp 
and smilingly asked to die quickly that Yanne 
might quickly go home. But the Turks had 
other ideas. They tried to buy Spiro to talk 
about his regiment and tell secrets of the army, 
promising that both he and his comrade should 
live, but he said only that he came to die and not 
to talk, and they could get nothing out of him 
though they tried in many ways. So at last they 
cut off his head and set Yanne free. He was in 
a terrible rage. He said that he never would 
have consented had they told him. But they 
only laughed at him and set him outside the 
camp. And he came back to the regiment, but 
he was not happy. He grieved for Spiro and 
made himself ill. Then the captain spoke with 
him. He told Yanne that Spiro had died for 
him and that now he must make the life that 


A Visit to Marco 


6i 


Spiro had saved of some account. His time in 
the army was nearly up. He should go home 
and care for his wife and thus do what Spiro 
would wish. 

“ ‘ This will be the only way to win happi- 
ness/ said the captain. ‘ For if you do not 
do this, your wife will say that Spiro was the 
better man and that he should not have died, 
but you.’ And Yanne wept, but he did what 
the captain had said. And that is the end of the 
story. But all the regiment drink to the eternal 
health of Spiro Rhizares, the hero.” 

“ Oh, the brave splendid fellow ! ” cried Zoe. 
“ Indeed, he was as poor, as Perseus. That is 
the nicest story I ever heard. Thank you so 
much for telling it to me. 

“ How did there come to be war with Turkey, 
Marco ? ” 

“ That is a long story, child, but one that you 
should know. Once, you know, Greece included 
Macedonia and all the strip of land along the 


62 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


sea as far as Constantinople. But the Turks 
always wanted Greece and in the year 1453 
they came down upon us in a frightful war and 
took the land. The Turkish rule was horrible. 
Their rulers knew nothing but to wring money 
out of our poor people and many Grecians fled 
to the mountains and became klephts.^ These 
fought always against the Turks and kept ever 
within them the spirit of freedom. At last they 
formed the Hetaeria, or Revolutionary Secret 
Society, and soon Greece was fighting for her 
independence. Such terrible battles as came; 
such heroes as there were ! It makes one want 
to shout at the very name of Marco Bozzaris, 
who surprised the Turks one night at Karpenisi 
and overcame them. 

“ Our people fought like the ancient heroes, 
but they could not get money to carry on the war. 
The Turks brought in hordes of soldiers; Greece 
was plundered and burned; people starved by 

* Brigands. 


A Visit to Marco 63 

the roadside, women and children were mur- 
dered. At last the nations of Europe said that 
such things could no longer be, and they joined 
together to compel the Turks to allow Greece 
to be free. This the Turks did not wish to do; 
but France, Russia and England compelled 
them to permit Greece to have her own govern- 
ment. The Turks gave us back a part of our 
country and a king was chosen to reign over 
us. 

“ This was better than belonging to Turkey, 
but it was not enough. We wanted all the land 
that belonged to us and this we could not get. 
The island of Crete especially wanted to be 
Grecian but the Turks would not let it 

go- 

“ At last in 1897, came the war in Macedonia, 
in which our poor soldiers were shot down by 
the hundred and we had to turn our backs 
upon the foe. It was then that Spiro Rhizares 
fought and died, and many, many splendid fel- 


64 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

lows as brave as he. It was a terrible war. 
Little One. War is easy when a man marches 
toward the foe. He is never tired or hungry 
or footsore. But when he is ordered back and 
must march away, his knapsack grows heavier 
at each step ; he is hungry and cold and weary, 
and his heart is within him like lead. Our men 
could have fought like heroes and Macedonia 
would now be ours; but the orders came always, 
‘ Retreat ! Back to Velestino ! ’ and what 
could they do ? 

“ The Powers forbade the Turks to conquer 
further, or we might be slaves again. Never 
mind, the day will come when every Grecian 
shall arm himself, and the detestable Turks 
shall be swept from our borders and all Greece 
shall once more be free ! ’’ 

Marco’s eye kindled and his face flushed. 

“ Thank you so much for telling me about 
it, Marco, I hope you’ll never have to go to 
fight, but I wish Greece could have all the land 


A Visit to Marco 


65 


that belongs to her. I am afraid I must go now. 
Aunt Anna will be displeased if I am late. It 
is growing dark. Are you not afraid all alone 
here in the mountains ’’ 

“ Afraid of what, Little One ? ” asked Marco, 
his hand on the hunting-knife which he carried 
in the soft sash at his waist. You see I am 
not alone, I have a good friend here.” 

Yes, but you might see a bear or a brigand ! ” 
she said. Oh, Marco, what is that ? ” A 
tall figure appeared as she spoke from out of 
the rocks above them. It is a brigand I am 
sure ! ” she whispered and clung close to her 
cousin. 

“ Nonsense,” he answered. Nobody ever 
sees brigands now, Zoe,” but as he spoke he 
tightened his grasp on his dagger and put his 
arm around his cousin, for every Grecian knows 
there are brigands in the mountains of Thessaly, 
though they are much less frequently seen than 
they used to be. 


66 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

Zoe gave a frightened gasp, ‘‘ It is, I knov;r 
it is ! Pana yea^ save me ! ’’ she said as the 
stranger approached, but Marco said pleasantly, 
“ Kalos orsesate! ** * 


* Holy virgin. 

* Welcome. 


CHAPTER VI 


TEA WITH A BRIGAND 

The stranger replied to Marco with ‘‘ Tee 
Kamnete’’* and came up close to them. Zoe 
blessed herself and said not a word. 

“ Kala/’* Marco said briefly, and the stranger 
said, 

“ It is late for you and your sister to be on 
the mountain. She is a pretty child.” 

“ Na meen avosgothees,”^ whispered Marco 
to Zoe, then to the stranger, ‘‘ Not later than 
for you.” 

“ But I have business here,” he said with a 
smile. 

* How do you do ? ' 

» Well ? 

^ Said to avert the evil eye. 

67 


6S Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ And so have we,” and Marco’s tone was 
a little curt. 

“ My business is to eat supper,” said the 
man. “ Will you join me ? ” 

Marco was surprised, but Zoe whispered, 
“ Do not make him angry,” so he said, 

“ Thank you. Zoe has brought me to eat 
also. Will you not share with us ? ” 

“ We will eat together,” said the stranger, 
so they seated themselves upon the green grass 
and Marco took from the basket Zoe had 
brought, black bread and cheese for all three. 

“ This is the best I have, but I am glad to 
give,” he said, for he thought to himself, 
“ He has not a bad face now that one sees him 
close. In any case it is best to be civil, for 
bees are not caught with sour wine.” 

The stranger threw aside his cloak and 
stood before them in the beautiful national 
costume of Greece. Zoe thought that she had 
never seen anything so fine as his clothes. 



“ STOOD BEFORE THEM IN THE BEAUTIFUL NATIONAL 
COSTUME OF GREECE.” 









;■» - ■. 



* ^ J t •* ^ * •*’ Vr-‘. 

^v ' . '♦Jf.li 


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«.<• - . t Ci *. s-- ,+^ 




V . « 


Jf * 


It -? i.' 

1 '^ > '•'’^ *• 
3 . pr*. ■i^’’- . - 


■ ■ />.T' ■ s ''■lv.>5,-'.t4S ;/.'>■ 



m 


•,*. ^ 


♦■•;■ 


■V 


♦» 

I 


f- *. 


A’ 

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Lv ? 




lb- 


KSK •= ■ . ' / ■ V'i' ;-- '■;<■' ''V’ 

w>- ■’ ■ ^ • ■ 


t'- A' 


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♦ y T- ifc,i 




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i^r J— '.A , ;f.X4r-ift 

Jv,; ii«' *. ;* V - ■• £^-. 

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69 


Tea with a Brigand 

He wore a white shirt, a little black jacket 
and fustanellasy the full white petticoat reach- 
ing to the knees, to which Grecian men cling 
in spite of the fact that it can be soiled in ten 
minutes while it takes a woman almost as 
many hours to make it clean again. 

He carried a leather bag over one shoulder, 
and from this he took a parcel, seating him- 
self beside Zoe and opening it with a gay 
smile. 

“ I did not think this morning, when I had 
this put up, that I should eat it with so dear a 
little girl,’’ he said. “ Perhaps I should have 
put in Syrian loukoumi had I known that you 
would be here instead of halva and tarama.^ 
Should I not } ” 

“ Halva is very nice,” said Zoe shyly. And 
I have never tasted loukoumi of Syria.” 

‘‘ H ave you not ? Poor child ! Tell me 

* A kind of paste eaten on fast days. 

* A sea food. 


yo Our Little Grecian Cousin 

where you live and I will send you a packet 
of it/’ 

“ I live in Karissa, near to Volo,” said Zoe 
with a sweet smile. ‘‘ The gentleman takes 
too much trouble.” 

“ I shall certainly do it,” he said, unless 
I am wrestling with Charos.” ' 

“ When your soul shall be a Petalouda^ 
and your dust shall become myrrh,” said Zoe. 
“ On the third day I shall carry raw wheat 
and a candle to Papa Petro, that he may 
say prayers for you.” 

‘‘ You are an angel of a child ! ” there were 
tears in the man’s eyes. “ It matters little 
when Charos comes, since God sends Charos 
to take souls. It is well if we leave behind us 
some grateful hearts to say ^ may your dust 
become myrrh.’ Come, let us eat. Here is 

* Dying. 

* Butterfly, a Grecian superstition being that the soul be- 
comes a butterfly after death. 


Tea with a Brigand 71 

a bottle of resinato^^ bread and tarama^ with 
olives and garlic and halva for dessert. It is 
a feast for the gods, yet the best Christian may 
eat it in Lent.” 

They ate, the two men chatting together, 
Zoe listening in silence. It had been long since 
she had seen such a feast, for bread and eggs 
were often all that was to be had in her 
aunt’s house, and sometimes there were no 
eggs. 

They sat beneath a giant tree on a carpet of 
maiden-hair fern ; scarlet anemones and heath, 
orchids and iris bloomed beside them, and the 
silver tinkle of a waterfall came softly through 
the evening air. The fragrance of violets was 
there, and a few early asphodel raised their star- 
like blooms toward heaven. 

‘‘ There is no place in all the world like 
Greece,” said the stranger, as he looked down 
over the beautiful valley. ‘‘ It was near to 


* Grecian wine with resin in it. 


72 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

here that Cheiron’s cave lay, and one can almost 
see Olympus, home of the gods/’ 

“ Who was Cheiron ? ” asked Zoe. 

“ Do you not know the story of the Golden 
Fleece ? ” said the stranger. “ Shall I tell it 
while we eat ” 

“ Oh, if you only would ” cried Zoe, and 
he began. 

“ Long, long ago, when the gods lived on 
Olympus, there was a cave in the depths of 
old Mount Pelion and it was called the cave 
of Cheiron, the Centaur. Cheiron was a strange 
being, half horse and half man, for he had the 
legs of a horse but the upper part of his body 
was that of a man. He was wise and kind and 
men called him ‘ the Teacher.’ Many men 
sent their sons to him to be taught, for he knew 
not only all the things of war, but music and to 
play the lyre, and of all the healing herbs, so 
that he could cure the wounds of men. Among 
his pupils was a lad named Jason, whose father 


73 


Tea with a Brigand 

was iEson, king of lolcos, by the sea. The 
wicked brother of iTson had cast him forth 
from his kingdom, and fearing that Jason 
would be killed, the father left the lad with 
Cheiron. Cheiron taught him much, and he 
learned quickly. He learned to wrestle and 
box, to ride and hunt, to wield the sword, to 
play the lyre, and even all that Cheiron knew 
of healing herbs Jason learned. Jason was 
happy with Cheiron and loved him, and the 
youths who dwelt in the Centaur’s cave, these 
he loved as brothers. He was quite content 
until one day he looked forth over the plains 
of Thessaly to the south, and as he saw the 
white-walled town beside the sea, something 
stirred within him, and he said to Cheiron, 
“ ‘ There lies my home. Now I am grown, 
I am a hero’s son, let me go forth and take my 
heritage from that bad man who cast forth 
my father, for I know that one day I shall be 
king in lolcos.’ 


74 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ ‘ That day is far, far away,’ said Cheiron, 
who could read the future. ‘ But it will come. 
Eagles fly from the nest, so must you fly hence. 
Go, but promise me this. Speak kindly to 
each one that you meet and keep always your 
promises.’ 

‘‘ ‘ I promise you and I will perform,’ said 
Jason, and he bade Cheiron farewell. Then 
he hurried down the mountain-side, through 
the sweet-smelling groves where grew the wild 
thyme and arbutus, beyond the vineyards 
green in the sun, and the olive groves in fra- 
grant bloom. He came to the river bank, a 
stream swollen with spring rains and foam- 
ing to the sea. Upon the bank was an old 
woman, wrinkled and gray, and she cried to 
Jason, 

‘ Good sir, carry me across this stream.’ 

“ Jason looked at her, and at first he thought 
to leave her, for the stream was broad and it 
roared over cruel rocks and was heavy with the 


Tea with a Brigand 75 

mountain’s melting snow. But she cried piti- 
fully, 

“ ‘ Fair youth, for Hera’s sake, carry me 
across.’ 

‘‘ Now Hera was queen of all the gods who 
lived on Olympus, and Jason said, 

“ ‘ For Hera’s sake will I do much. Cling 
upon my back and I will carry you across. 
That I promise you.’ Then he remembered 
Cheiron’s word and was glad he had answered 
her softly. He struggled through the foam, 
but the old woman was heavy and she clung 
about his neck and seemed to grow heavier. 
He buffeted the waves and struggled, and 
twice he thought he must let the old woman 
go, but he remembered his promise and held 
her fast, and at last he reached the farther 
shore and scrambled up the bank. And as 
he gently set his burden down, lo ! she was a 
fair young woman, and she smiled upon him 
and said. 


76 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ ‘ I am that Hera for whose sake you have 
done this deed of kindness. I will repay you, 
for whenever you need help call upon me, 
and I will not forget you.’ Then she rose up 
from the earth into the clouds, and with awe 
and wonder, Jason watched her fade from his 
sight. 

“ Then he went on to lolchis, but he walked 
slowly, for he had lost one sandal in the flood. 
He went into the city and spoke with the king, 
demanding his realm, and the king was afraid 
of him, for soothsayers had foretold that a 
man wearing one sandal should take the king- 
dom away from him. 

‘‘ But the king spoke to him kindly and gave 
him food, and said to him, ‘ Your father gave 
me the kingdom of his own free will. See him 
and ask him if this is not true.’ Jason said 
that he would do so, and he ate with his uncle, 
and at last the king said, 

‘ There is a man in my kingdom whorn 


Tea with a Brigand 


77 


I am afraid will cause me trouble if he stays 
here. What would you do with him were you 
I ? I ask because I know you are wise.* 

“ ‘ I think I would send him to bring home 
the Golden Fleece,* said Jason. 

“ ‘ Will you go .? * said the king, and Jason 
saw that he was caught in a trap, and that his 
uncle had meant him. 

‘‘ ‘ I will go, and when I return I will take the 
kingdom,* he said, and straightway he made 
ready. He made sacrifice to Hera, for in those 
days people killed a lamb in honour of the gods, 
as we to-day burn a candle at a shrine. Then 
he fitted up a ship and sent word to all those 
princes who had been with him in Cheiron*s 
cave that they come with him on this glorious 
quest. And they came and all the youths set 
forth upon a mighty ship. Of the many things 
that happened to them I have no time to tell, 
but at last Jason came to the shores of Cutaia, 
where the Colchians lived. There w^s the 


78 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


Golden Fleece, but guarded so that no man 
might take it. There it had been for many 
years, since King Phrixus had slain the Golden 
Ram and offered it in sacrifice, and since then 
all the world had longed to possess the wonder- 
ful Golden Fleece. 

Medea, the king’s daughter, saw Jason, and 
loved him because he was fearless and brave. 
She was a witch and she helped him with her 
witchcraft, giving him a magic salve with 
which he rubbed himself so that no weapon 
could hurt him, and his strength was as the 
strength of mighty hills. He who would possess 
the Fleece must first wrestle with two terrible 
bulls, then he must sow serpent’s teeth in a 
ploughed field. From the teeth sprang up a 
field of armed men, and these must be over- 
come, and then the deadly serpent which 
guarded the Fleece must be slain. All these 
things Medea’s magic helped Jason to do. He 
fought with the bulls and conquered them; 


79 


Tea with a Brigand 

he harnessed them to the plough and ploughed 
the field. He hewed down the armed men as 
if they were stalks of wheat and last of all he 
sought to slay the serpent. Orpheus, who had 
been with Jason in Cheiron’s cave, went with 
him to the tree where hung the Golden Fleece. 
He was the sweetest singer in all the world, 
and he played soft and sweet upon his lyre 
and sang of sleep, and the serpent closed his 
eyes and slumber stole upon him. Then Jason 
stepped across his body and tore the Fleece 
from the tree, and he and Orpheus and Medea 
fled to the ship and away they sailed to Greece 
again.” 

As he finished a sudden sound reached their 
ears and Marco sprang to his feet. 

“ A wolf is at my goats ! ” he cried. “ I 
must go. Zoe, fly quickly down the mountain; 
but no — it is too late for you to go alone, there 
are wild beasts abroad. You should not have 
stayed so late ! ” 


8o Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ Go quickly to your goats, Marco. That 
is your duty. I shall be safe, for I shall pray 
to the saints and the Holy Virgin, and I shall 
run very fast.” 

“ Go to your herd, good shepherd, and I will 
take your sister home,” said the stranger, put- 
ting up the remains of his meal, but Marco 
did not look reassured. He looked helplessly 
from one to the other. “ I may be out all night,” 
he said, when another squeal, sharp and shrill, 
came through the air. 

“ Go at once, Marco, I shall be quite safe 
with this gentleman,” said Zoe. 

“ I will promise that she shall go straight 
home,” said the stranger, and Marco unwill- 
ingly turned to the mountain. 

Zoe and her strange companion walked 
hastily down the steep path which led to 
the village. 

“ Child,” said the stranger, why did you 
tell your brother to go ? Are you not afraid 
of me .? ” 


Tea with a Brigand 8i 

“ He is not my brother, but my cousin, and 
I am not at all afraid,” she said. 

“ But you were afraid at first,” he said. 
“ You thought I was a brigand.” 

“ That was before I had seen your face,” 
said the little girl. “ And now that I have seen 
you and heard you talk, I know that you are 
not.” 

“ How do you know ? ” he asked. 

“ You are a good man, because you keep 
the Lenten fast, you speak well of God and you 
are kind to a little girl. So I know you have 
a white heart. You may perhaps be a brigand, 
but you are a good one.” 

He threw back his head and laughed aloud. 

“ You are a strange little one,” he said. 
“ Tell me your name.” 

I am Zoe AverofF, of Argolis.” 

‘‘ Zoe AverofF of Argolis ! Child, what are 
you doing here ? ” 

She looked at him in wonder as she answered. 


82 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ My mother is dead, my father is gone and 
comes no more; he must be dead too. I live 
here v^ith my uncle, the father of Marco.’’ 

The stranger’s eyes were fixed upon her and 
she saw them fill with hot tears. 

“ Child,” he said, “ I believe you are my 
little niece. I am Andreas AverofF, and your 
father was my brother. I feared that I would 
fail to find you, since all they could tell me at 
your old home was that you had gone to Thes- 
saly. Do you remember me, since I went to 
your house once long ago ? ” 

“ I know that I had an Uncle Andreas,” 
said Zoe, scarce believing her ears. “ But I 
do not remember him.” 

‘‘ I am that uncle,” he said, “ and I have 
come to take you with me to my home. I 
have a wife and son in Argolis, but our little 
girl we lost. Will you come and be our daughter, 
or are you too happy here ? ” 

“ I am not too happy,” said Zoe, ‘‘ but it 


Tea with a Brigand 83 

would be hard to leave Marco. He is so good 
to me.” 

“ Perhaps your Marco will come with us, 
for I have money and we can find him better 
things to do than to fly to the mountains with 
the shepherds each St. George^s Day. Now, 
take me to your home and tell your aunt what 
has come of your taking tea with a brigand.” 


CHAPTER VII 


ZOE TAKES A JOURNEY 

The next few days seemed to Zoe to pass 
as in a dream. So many things happened which 
she had never supposed could come to her, 
that she was almost dazed. Uncle Andreas 
was such an energetic person that he carried 
everything his own way. He silenced all ob- 
jections to his plans, and before the child fairly 
knew what was happening she had said good- 
bye to her Thessalonian relatives, and with her 
new-found uncle and Marco was sailing out 
of the harbour of Volo on her uncle’s ship. She 
wept a little at leaving her cousins, especially 
the babycoula, but that Marco was to be with 
her robbed the separation of half its sting. 

The future opened before her with much of 
84 


Zoe Takes a Journey 85 

interest. Unknown lands were to be explored, 
and to Zoe this in itself was charming. 

“ Do you feel as if you were setting out to 
find the Golden Fleece .? ” asked Marco as 
the two sat upon the deck and watched the hills 
of Thessaly fade in the distance, as they sailed 
over the blue Gulf of Velos. 

I feel very strange and full of wonder as 
to what will come next,” she said. 

“ Well, Little One,” said Uncle Andreas^ 
hearty voice, “ what kind of a sailor are you 
going to make ^ ” 

“ Oh, I like it on the sea,” she answered 
brightly. “ When we came to Thessaly, Mother 
was very ill, but I was not at all. I love the 
salt air, the spray and the feel of the wind on 
my cheek. It is like a kiss.” 

“ Good girl,” her uncle smiled at her. “ You 
are just the one to have a sailor uncle. Many 
a fine sail shall we have together when we reach 
our own Argolis. Marco shall be a fisherman 


86 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


and we three shall sail and sail in the roughest 
weather. They do not know the sea who 
know her only when she is calm. She is most 
beautiful when angry. Shall you tire of your 
long voyage ’’ 

“ Oh, no, Uncle Andreas, I could sail for 
ever.’’ 

The time passed pleasantly for Marco told 
Zoe pleasant tales of their own beautiful Greece, 
and her uncle told of rovings from shore to 
shore. He had been a sailor for many years and 
now owned his own sloop, in which he sailed 
over the Mediterranean with cargoes of currants 
and lemons. He had had many adventures, 
had been shipwrecked upon one of the little 
islands of the sea and in his youth had even 
sailed to America. 

‘‘ I do not believe that your father is dead,” 
he said to Zoe one day. “ He may have written 
letters which you have never received, but I 
think if he were dead we would have heard 


Zoe Takes a Journey 87 

of it. Some day he will come back or we will 
go and hunt him up.” 

Zoe’s eyes grew large and tender. 

‘‘ If my father would only come back,” she 
said, ‘‘ I should never ask the saints for any- 
thing so long as I live. But I know I will be 
very happy with you and Aunt Angelike.” 

“ Especially as Marco will be there,” laughed 
her uncle, and Zoe laughed too. 

“ Marco has been so good to me that I would 
be a strange girl could I be happy without 
him,” she said. 

When they sailed into the Gulf of Athens and, 
rounding the point, she saw the “ City of Sails,” 
as it is called from the many boats in the har- 
bour, the little girl could hardly contain herself. 
She saw for the first time the wonderful marble 
buildings of the city of Athens, with the Acrop- 
olis and the Areopagus, where gleamed the 
famous ruins of the Parthenon; and to the 
child, her mind filled with the lore of the long 


88 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


ago, every marble was peopled with heroes, 
every leaf and bud and bird sang of Pericles 
and other famous Athenians, as Mt. Olympus 
and Tempers Vale had whispered of the gods 
of old. 

Athens is perhaps one of the most interesting 
cities in the world. The ship anchored in the 
harbour of Pireas and the three landed in a 
small boat rowed by Uncle Andreas’stout sailors. 
Then they drove in a cab between the long 
rows of pepper trees, Zoe bouncing from one 
window of the cab to the other in a frantic 
effort to see both sides of the street at once. 
The driver drove very fast, calling “ Empros ! ’’ 
to any passer who chanced to cross his path, 
and Zoe wished he would go slowly so that she 
might see all the wonderful things they passed. 

“ Oh, Uncle, what is that ? ’’ she cried as 
they passed a procession of men carrying 
something on a bier. 

It is a funeral,’’ he said. 


Zoe Takes a Journey 89 


‘‘ Why isn’t the coffin covered ? ” she asked, 
for as they drew nearer she saw that there was 
no cover and the dead man lay covered only 
with flowers. 

‘‘ The custom of burying the dead without 
cover arose in the time of the first Turkish war,” 
he said. “ The Turks feared that soldiers 
would get outside of the wall by pretending 
to be dead and being carried out in coffins. 
Several famous leaders got out of the city in 
that manner and stirred up the country people 
to revolt. So they made a law that people who 
died must be carried through the streets un- 
covered and a lid put on the coffin only as it 
was lowered into the grave. Miserable Turks ! ” 
and Uncle Andreas spat on the ground, as every 
good Grecian does when mentioning the name 
of his hated enemy. The Turks have always 
coveted Greece and in the bitter wars between 
the two countries has been bred a hatred 
which does not die out as the countries grow 
older. 


90 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ Oh, Marco ! ’’ cried Zoe from the other 
window, “ See them cooking in the street ! 
I never heard of such a thing.’’ 

“ That is quite common,” said Marco. “ It 
is not good to have fire in the house, you know, 
so men make their living by taking stoves 
around from house to house and cooking what- 
ever people wish for dinner. You see many 
of the houses are built without any chimneys 
for the smoke, and when they have stoves in 
them they have to let the smoke out through 
a pane of the window. Often it blows back 
into the room, and so people do not care for 
stoves. Heat in the house is very bad for 
the health, you know, so these travelling stove- 
men make a good living.” 

“ Nearly everything is brought to your door 
in Athens,” said Uncle Andreas. ‘‘ The street 
sellers peddle not only everything to eat, but 
dry goods, notions, hats, shoes, and nearly 
everything else, from trays hung around their 
necks.” 


91 


Zoe Takes a Journey 

Suddenly their cab stopped and drew up at 
the edge of the sidewalk. Zoe wondered what 
was the matter as she saw the driver take off 
his cap, and her uncle exclaimed, 

‘‘ Well, Zoe, you are in luck ! Here comes 
the royal carriage.’’ 

“ Oh, Uncle, is it the King ” she cried, 
bouncing up and down with excitement. 

“ His Majesty, the Queen and Prince Con- 
stantine,” said her uncle as a handsome carriage 
drove by. Zoe had a glimpse of a fine-looking 
man, and a sweet-faced woman gave her a 
bright smile. Then the cab drove on again 
and she sat down with a gasp of astonishment. 

‘‘Is that all.?” she said. “Why, Uncle, 
it was only a two-horse carriage, and there 
wasn’t any music or soldiers or crowns on their 
heads or anything ! ” Her uncle and Marco 
laughed heartily. 

“ You are all mixed up. Little One,” said 
Marco. “ Crowns on whose head — the horses ? 


92 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

Our king is the most democratic monarch in 
Europe. He often walks around Athens with- 
out any one with him at all. He is quite safe, 
for every one likes him. He likes a joke and 
does not care at all for fuss and ceremony. 
They tell a story that one day he was out walk- 
ing and met an American, who stopped him 
to ask if it was permitted to see the royal gar- 
dens. Of course the American did not know 
to whom he was talking, but the king said, 
‘ Certainly, sir, I will show them to you ; ’ 
and he took him all around the gardens, talking 
with him pleasantly and telling him many 
interesting things about Athens. At last the 
American said, 

‘‘ ‘ What kind of a woman is the queen ’ 

‘‘ ‘ She is beautiful and good as she is beau- 
tiful, ’ answered the king. 

“ ‘ What about the king ? ’ asked the stranger. 

“ ‘ Oh, he isn’t of much account,’ said King 
George. ‘ He hasn’t done much for the country.’ 


Zoe Takes a Journey 93 

‘‘ ‘ That’s strange/ said the American. ‘ You 
are the first person I have met in Greece who 
did not speak well of the king.’ 

“ ‘ Indeed,’ said the king with a laugh. 
‘ Well, I know him better than most people.’ 
The man found out afterwards that he had 
been talking to the king, and he was very much 
astonished. 

‘‘ When the king first came to reign,” said 
Uncle Andreas, ‘‘ people thought he would 
not be popular. He was a stranger, the son 
of the King of Denmark, and brother of the 
Queen of England, but he brought to our 
country such a magnificent present that our 
people felt kindly to him from the first. You 
know the miserable Turks had taken away 
from us the Ionian Isles, and England had 
taken them from the Turks and ruled well 
over them for the years in which they occu- 
pied them. When the king came to us he 
brought to us, a free gift, those beautiful 


94 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

islands, the loss of which every Grecian had 
mourned for years/’ 

“ It is no wonder people like him,” said 
Zoe. ‘‘ I am so glad I saw him. He has such 
a nice, kind face, and the queen is lovely.” 

“ She gives much to the poor and is greatly 
beloved,” said Uncle Andreas. 

** It should make her very happy to be sur- 
rounded by so many who love her,” said Zoe 
softly. 

“ Angel of a child ! ” said her uncle. You 
shall never be unhappy again if I can help it.” 

“ Oh, I am very happy,” she exclaimed. 
“ I was not unhappy at Marco’s home, not 
very,” she added truthfully. ‘‘ Only I wanted 
my mother, and sometimes I wanted to be 
where we had been together. I think there are 
always things we miss, no matter where we are. 
Now I shall be happy in my own dear Argolis, 
but I shall still long for my mother and father, 
and I shall miss the babycoula.” 


Zoe Takes a Journey 95 

“ You will have your cousin Petro to play 
with,” said her uncle. ‘‘ He is about your age, 
and will love you like a sister and tease you like 
a brother. Come, I know that you and Marco 
are thirsty. Let us stop here and take a cup 
of coffee.” 

“ That will be nice,” said Zoe who had never 
seen a coffee-house. They got out of the cab 
in front of a little shop with little tables at which 
sat a number of people. They sat down to 
one of the tables and Zoe watched with delight 
the making of the coffee. Grecian coffee is 
made in a peculiar way. The coffee-machine 
has a round brass cylinder which pulverizes 
the beans till they are fine as powder. A tea- 
spoonful of powder is used to each cup, and the 
powder is put in a brass dipper with an equal 
quantity of sugar. To this is added boiling 
water and the mixture is put over the fire until 
it boils. Then it is beaten to a froth and boiled 
again, beaten again, and boiled and beaten 


96 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

a third time, when it is a thick and delicious 
syrup. It is said to contain all the good part 
of the coffee, and taken in this manner not to 
be injurious at all. In Greece it is taken in 
great quantities, and this may account for the 
fact that one almost never sees a drunken man 
in Greece. Zoe sipped her coffee with delight 
and ate the loukoumi and the handful of pis- 
tachio nuts served with it. Then as they sat so 
quietly, there came to Zoe the greatest excite- 
ment of her life. Suddenly there was a great 
commotion in the cafe; men jumped from 
their seats, the waiters ran to the door, in the 
street children shouted and waved their caps, 
as a cab drove up and from it emerged a young 
man. He was of medium height, dark-haired, 
dark-eyed, with a strong, keen face and an air 
of great simplicity, seeming rather abashed 
at the shouts which rang through the air, 
“ Zito, Loues ! Spiridione Loues ! ’’ 

‘‘ Zoe, good fortune goes with you ! ” cried 


97 


Zoe Takes a Journey 

her uncle. ‘‘ It is Loues, the winner of the 
Marathon/’ and he lifted her high in air to 
see the hero. All Grecians rejoiced to see 
him, for he had won the Marathon race, when 
all the other prizes of the Olympian Games had 
been won by Americans. 

“ Since the first Olympian Games,” said 
Marco, as the noise quieted down and Loues 
was allowed to take his coffee in peace, “ there 
has never been such an excitement as there 
was over Loues.” 

“ Why do we have the Games ? ” asked 
Zoe, who could not understand why there was 
so much fuss over a young peasant whom she 
thought not nearly so handsome as Marco. 

‘‘ It comes from the days of ancient Greece,” 
said Marco. “ I will tell you of it while we 
wait for your uncle, who must speak with a 
friend over there on business. 

‘‘ In the very old days when men worshipped 
the gods, there was at Olympia a temple of 


gS Our Little Grecian Cousin 


Zeus, and here men gathered every year to do 
him honour. The Greeks loved all manner of 
sports. They wrestled, ran, jumped, and threw 
the discus better than any people in the world. 
Their bodies were strong and beautiful, as we 
know from the wonderful statues which have 
been kept in the museums. They loved beauty 
so much that they did everything to keep their 
bodies beautiful, fasting, exercising and loving 
all fine, manly sports. So every four years 
they had the Olympic Games; and men came 
from all over Greece to try to win the prizes, 
for to have the laurel wreath of victory at 
Olympia placed upon his brow, was the highest 
honour a man could wish. Envoys were sent 
out early in the year of the games to invite 
strangers to witness them, and people came 
hither from many lands. The victors were 
crowned and carried in procession with shouts 
and hand-clapping, honoured by all. 

The games were stopped in the time of the 


99 


Zoe Takes a Journey 

Emperor Theodosius, because he thought them 
too pagan, and he wished Grecians to put aside 
pagan things and become Christians. They 
were begun again in 1896, and now the King 
takes great interest in them, and so does Prince 
Constantine. 

“ Loues won the Marathon race, which is the 
most exciting of any of the sports. Many, 
many years ago the Persians were at war with 
Greece. They had so many soldiers that the 
Grecians felt certain that their enemy would 
conquer, but they determined to fight to the 
death. It was in the fifth century before Christ; 
Darius, the Persian king, led one hundred 
thousand men against Miltiades and the Athe- 
nians, who numbered only ten thousand men, 
and they fought a terrible battle on the plains 
of Marathon. At home the wives and mothers, 
the old men and children waited, feared and 
trembled. 

“ ‘ Is there no news from Marathon ? * they 


lOO Our Little Grecian Cousin 


asked each other. ‘ Is all lost ? * But no 
answer came. At last they saw a speck of dust 
in the distance and they held their breath. 
Was it defeat, dishonour, captivity, which came 
flying to them from Marathon None knew. 
The speck came nearer and nearer, no speck 
but the figure of a man, running as never man 
ran before. Breathlessly they waited, no one 
daring even to speak, as he dashed to the city 
gates. White with dust he staggered within 
the wall with one wild cry of ‘ Victory ! ’ as 
he fell fainting upon the ground. How men 
honoured him, the fleet runner who had brought 
the news from Marathon, where Darius’ men 
lay in mighty heaps of slain, and Greece was 
free. 

“ So they made in honour of this victory the 
Marathon race at the games, and Loues was 
the proud winner, the prouder because all the 
other contests, even our Grecian disc-throwing, 
were won by men from America.” 


Zoe Takes a Journey loi 

‘‘ I am so glad I have seen him,” said Zoe. 
“ And thank you for telling me all about 
it.” 

Then they started again on their drive and 
found that the sun was setting. As they drove 
to the inn where they were to spend the night, 
he was clothing with a rosy glow Hymettus 
and Penteligos, the two mountains on either 
side of Athens. Then the glow faded and a deep 
purple spread over the sky, deepening into violet. 
Zoe thought she had never seen anything so 
beautiful, and she sank to sleep that night, 
tired but happy, murmuring to herself, “ It 
is my home, this lovely Greece of ours. How 
glad I am that I am a Grecian.” 

The two days spent in Athens were full to the 
brim with delight for Zoe. Her uncle seemed 
to have money enough to spend freely, and 
he bought her a new frock, a new hat, and — 
wonder of delight ! red shoes stitched in gold. 
These came from Shoe Street, where all manner 


102 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

of shoes hung in pairs outside the small doorways 
of the shops. Her uncle had some business to 
attend to, and she and Marco wandered about 
seeing the ruins of the ancient temples, with 
their wonderful marbles and carvings, which 
have made the Parthenon of Athens famous 
all over the world. 

The most wonderful things Zoe saw were the 
peasant dances, and these she stumbled upon 
quite by accident. Uncle Andreas had gone 
out to a village north of Athens to attend to 
some business and had taken Zoe with him. 
On their way home they saw a crowd at a small 
village through which they passed. 

“ I wonder what is happening here ? ** said 
Zoe, and her uncle asked the driver of their 
carriage. 

“ It is the time of the peasant dances,*’ he 
said. “ If you have never seen them you should 
stop, for they are very beautiful.” So they 
stopped the carriage and watched the dancing. 


Zoe Takes a Journey 103 


which was held on a smooth bit of green sward 
outside the town. Men and maidens danced, 
hand-in-hand, in long lines, with a slow, digni- 
fied grace of motion, the men in fustanellas, 
or some of them in plain European clothes, 
but the women’s clothes were the most beauti- 
ful things Zoe had ever seen. Especially 
lovely were three girls who danced particularly 
well and were beautifully dressed. Round 
and round they circled, in a slow, stately 
movement, to the music of a drum, clarionet 
, and flute. The costumes of the girls were 
loaded with embroidery, all the work of 
their own fingers. Their dresses were white, 
but the embroidery, which reached to nearly 
a foot above the hems of the skirts, was 
of coloured woolen, green, blue and gold in the 
richest of designs. Over the skirts they wore 
aprons, also embroidered, and sleeveless jackets 
of white, with red borders embroidered with 
gold thread. There were caps on their heads. 


104 Little Grecian Cousin 


covered with veils which floated back and gave 
a bride-like appearance to the dancers. Ban- 
gles of gold and silver coins hung as necklaces 
around their throats, and the driver explained 
that these coins were the girls’ dowries and 
showed how much they were worth to the man 
who married them. 

“ I should think anyone would be glad to 
marry them without any dowry,” said Zoe. 
“ They are so beautiful.” 

“ Yes,” said her uncle laughing. “ But 
even beauty has to be fed and clothed, and a 
fair woman is fairer with a good marriage 
portion.” 

At last came the day for their departure 
and they were up and away on the ship, sail- 
ing over the blue water. 

“ Tomorrow we shall be in Argolis, and you 
will see your new home, Zoe,” said her uncle, 
and she answered, ‘‘ My old home, too. Uncle. 
Thank you for bringing me back to it.” 


Zoe Takes a Journey 105 

They reached the harbour as the moon was 
rising in the sky, a slender, silver bow such 
as Diana wielded in the forests of Ephesus. 
A soft, hazy twilight breathed of fays and 
nereids, and Zoe imagined that she heard them 
laughing in the crested waves. She was tired 
and very sleepy, and her uncle said, 

‘‘ We shall soon be there, child, and your 
aunt will be waiting for us with a good supper.’’ 

She smiled a little, but her footsteps lagged 
as they walked up the steep village street. 
Marco bent down to look at her face, then 
he stooped and lifted her in his strong 
arms. 

“ She is tired out. I will carry her,” he said, 
and Zoe heard nothing more, for her head fell 
on his shoulder and she fell asleep, until a 
kind voice said, 

“ Oh, Andreas, is that you ? ” Then two 
warm arms were around her and a soft voice 
said close to her ear, “ Is this my little girl ? ” 


io6 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

She looked up to see a lovely woman’s face 
above hers; then she cuddled down in the 
tender arms of Aunt Angelike happier than 
she had been since her mother died. 


CHAPTER VIII 

BY THE SEA 

A MONTH in Argolis found Zot rosy, happy 
and quite unlike the sad-faced little maid who 
had tended the babycoula in far-away Thessaly. 
Uncle Andreas soon went to sea again, taking 
Marco with him ; but Aunt Angelike was 
kindness itself and Zoe’s cousin, a merry boy 
of ten, proved such a delightful playfellow 
that the two soon became fast friends. 

Their home was on a pleasant village street, 

where a huge plane tree hundreds of years old 

shaded the little balcony which extended from 

the second story out over the street. Near-by 

was the village fountain, a meeting place for 

old and young, for all the water used for cook- 
107 


io8 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


ing had to be carried from the fountain in water- 
jars. 

Aunt Angelike was young and full of laughter. 
She was much younger than her husband, 
and seemed to Zoe almost like her cousin 
Maria. She entered into everything the children 
did, and added to their enjoyment by her 
pleasure in their happiness. She made play 
even of work, and Zoe enjoyed nothing more 
than the family washing-day. This occurred 
only once a month, but that was far oftencr 
than many of their neighbours washed their 
household linen. 

Aunt Angelike went to the mountain stream 
which gurgled down to the sea over rocks and 
pebbles, clear and limpid, reflecting the blue 
sky and white clouds. 

They washed beneath a huge plane tree, 
the largest one Zoe had ever seen, and about 
whose trunk she and Petro together with arms 
extended could not reach. The linen had been 



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By the Sea 


109 

brought up the hill on the back of a little 
donkey which the children often rode. First 
Aunt Angelike soaked the clothes in lye water, 
then boiled them and laid each piece upon the 
stones to be beaten with a paddle. 

“ Now,Zoe and Petro, it is your time to help,” 
she said laughing. “ Beat them until they 
are clean and white. Your uncle’s fustanellas. 
Child, take great pains with them. Of all 
things they must be clean.” 

“ I shall make them perfect,” said Zoe, 
“ and Marco’s also.” And she beat and 
paddled the skirts until they were as white 
as the snow on Mount Olympus. 

“ There, that will do. Now spread them 
out to dry,” said Aunt Angelike, and Zoe and 
Petro laid the clothes about on the grass and 
bushes, the fustanellas alone covering yards 
and yards of the green. 

‘‘ Let us rest,” said Petro, throwing himself 
down beneath the tree. “ I am tired.” 


no Our Little Grecian Cousin 

“ You are a lazy one,” said his mother, 
seating herself beside him. “ Next you will 
want to eat.” 

“ That I do,” cried Petro, sitting up hastily 
and forgetting his fatigue. “ What have you, 
little mother ? ” 

“ Now you are a greedy,” said his mother, 
laughing at him. 

But tell me,” he said coaxingly, laying a 
hand on her arm. 

Nay, Zoe is quiet and polite, she shall be 
helped first,” said the mother, and she drew 
a basket of luncheon from its hiding-place 
within the hollow trunk of a tree. There was 
bread, cheese, olives and fresh mousmoulay the 
most delicious of Grecian fruits, yellow as 
gold, with four huge seeds within and a juice 
cool and refreshing. They ate with health and 
laughter for sauce, and then Zoe begged for a 
story. “ Just one, my aunt, before we take a 
siesta.” 


By the Sea 1 1 1 

“ I shall tell you of the good Saint Philip/^ 
said the aunt, who was very pious and thought 
that children should always be told holy tales 
to make them think of good things. 

“ St. Philip was always very sorry for the 
poor. He was himself very good, and though 
he had once had many drachmas he had given 
away so much that he had hardly a lepta 
left. He had even given away his food, and 
kept for himself only a cow, living upon the 
milk to keep himself from starving. One 
night he slept and dreamed a strange dream. 
He thought that he went to heaven and that 
our Lord did not smile upon him. Instead 
he turned away his face. But the great St. 
Petro said, ‘ Our Lord, this is Felipo, lover of 
the poor. Wilt thou greet him ? ’ ‘ He loved 

the poor, but himself he loved more,’ said 
our Lord with sadness, and St. Philip awoke 
with a start. At that moment there came a 
loud ‘ moo ! ’ from without his hut, and he 
jumped to his feet and said. 


1 12 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


“ ‘ It is the cow ! I have no need for a cow 
when God’s poor starve ! I will kill her and 
let the starving eat ! ’ So with grief in his heart, 
for he loved the animal dearly, he slaughtered 
her and divided the meat among his poor. 
That night he went to bed hungry, for he had 
no milk for his supper, but his heart was full 
of joy, for he felt the satisfaction of those who 
‘ give to the poor and lend to the Lord.’ 

“ He slept without dreaming and was awa- 
kened in the morning by a familiar sound. li 
was the ‘ moo moo ’ of his cow without his door, 
and he said to himself, ‘ Of a truth I dream, 
my poor cow is dead ! ’ but again he heard 
the call, ‘ Moo moo ! ’ and he looked out of 
the window. There stood his friend and 
favourite, at the door of her little shed, await- 
ing her morning meal. He could not believe 
his eyes, but the cow was hungry and did not 
at all like being left to stand at the door until 
her master made up his mind that she was not 


By the Sea 


113 

a ghost. She stamped the ground with her 
foot and mooed again, this time very loud. 
‘ It is indeed she,* cried the saint. ‘ Now 
is the good God good indeed ! I have fed his 
poor and he has rewarded me by restoring life to 
my favourite. Always hereafter shall I believe 
in his mercy.* ** 

“ Oh, what a nice story ! ** cried Zoe, but 
Petro said, 

“ If God could do anything, why didn’t 
He keep the cow from being killed. It must 
have hurt her ! ’* 

“ You are a heathen ! *’ said his mother. 
“ You talk like an unbelieving Turk ! Since 
God can do anything He doubtless kept the 
knife from hurting her when she was killed. 
It is not well to talk so of the stories of the 
saints.** 

“ I like stories of battles better, said Petro, 
still dissatisfied, but his mother said, 

“ I tell no more stories to boys who do not 


1 14 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

like holy things, and now it is siesta time/’ 
So they slept beneath the great tree, and all 
was still, save the splash of the waterfall and 
the hum of the bees, in the hearts of the scarlet 
poppies. When they awoke it was late in the 
afternoon and many of the clothes were already 
dry. 

“ Let us go down to the beach and fish ! ” 
said Petro. 

“ But you will fall in ! ” said his mother. 

“ Oh, no. Mother,’’ said Petro. “ But if I 
do it will not hurt.” 

“ Wait a little and I will go with you, that at 
least I may be there to pull you out,” said Aunt 
Angelike, laughing. She had not great faith 
in her boy’s promises, for she had lived with 
him for ten years and knew that he was always 
in head-first when there was any danger. 
Petro was a gay little fellow — ■ happy and full of 
laughter, and he and Zoe played together always 
pleasantly. So they ran about under the trees 


By the Sea 


115 

while Aunt Angelike sorted her linen into 
piles ready to pack upon the donkey’s back 
for their return. 

“ We shall catch a fish and roast him for 
supper, then go back by moonlight,” she said, 
always ready to give the children pleasure, 
and both thought the plan delightful. 

“ You can’t catch me,” shouted Petro as 
he darted away from Zoe, and she chased 
him about until both fell panting upon the 
grass. 

‘‘ See that boat,” said Zoe. “ How pretty 
it looks ! Its sails look like great wings spread 
over the sea. Look ! It is coming here ! ” 

“ No,” said Petro. “ I think it will anchor 
and send in a boat. Yes, there come two men. 
They have a fishing-net set here and are com- 
ing to see what they have caught. See ! ” 

Two sailors sprang from their boat on the 
beach and started to haul in a seine. Zoe 
gave one look at them and was off like an arrow 


ii6 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


from a bow, crying, “ Marco ! It is Marco ! ” 
Petro following not less quickly, calling, 
“Father! We are here! Mother and I 
are here ! ’’ The two men turned in astonish- 
ment to see the two flying figures, and gay 
Uncle Andreas cried, 

“ Beware, Marco ! The Turks are upon us ! ** 
As the two little folk hurled themselves into 
the arms awaiting them. 

“ Oh, Marco, my own dear Marco ! I am 
so glad to see you ! It is so long since you went 
away ! ” cried Zoe, while Petro said, 

“ Were you coming home tonight ? What 
did you bring me ^ ** 

“ We were coming home tonight to surprise 
you, but it seems we are the ones to be sur- 
prised,” said his father. “How came you here V* 
“ Mother brought the washing and we have 
been here since morning,” said Petro. “ We 
hoped to catch a fish for our supper and walk 
home by moonlight.” 


By the Sea 


117 

** We shall do better than that,” said his 
father, as his mother came hastily down the 
hill to greet them. “ How would it please 
you to eat one of my fish, when we have cooked 
it, and then sail home with us in the boat ? ” 

“ Oh ! ” squealed Zoe. 

“ That will be fine I ” cried Petro, but Aunt 
Angelike said, 

‘‘ The fish and the supper, yes — but what 
will we do with my white clothes and the 
donkey ? ” 

‘‘ We shall send the donkey home on his four 
feet and the clothes on his back, both in charge 
of one of my sailors,” laughed kind Uncle 
Andreas, and so it was settled. 

They had a merry supper on the beach, and 
the fresh lithrini' made a delicious meal, 
roasted over a fire laid on the stones. Other 
good things were brought from the ship until 
Zoe declared she had never seen such a feast. 


* A Grecian fish. 


ii8 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


‘‘ Does she not look well, Marco ? ” said 
Aunt Angelike, and Marco replied, 

“ Like a different child. Naughty Zoe, 
you did not like Thessaly ! 

But I like you,’’ said Zoe sweetly, and 
Uncle Andreas said teasingly, 

“ Thessaly ! Who could like Thessaly ! It 
has been ruled by the Turks ! Our Argolis 
has never known the heel of the Unspeakable ! ” 
“ Then it was not worth their wanting,” 
said Marco in return. “ And Thessaly has 
cast them out ! ” 

‘‘ Do not quarrel,” said Aunt Angelike. “ It 
is all our own land and the sea is always ours.” 

So they started homeward over the dancing 
waves, blue as heaven and as peaceful, and 
Zoe’s little heart was filled to the brim with 
happiness. 


CHAPTER IX 


AUTUMN PLEASURES 

There was no lack of work in the little house 
beneath the plane tree. Aunt Angelike was a 
busy housewife and cared not at all for drones 
in her hive. She herself worked, and those with 
her must work too, but she had a happy fashion 
of making work seem like play. She knew 
how to spin and to weave both cloth and car- 
pet, so her loom was kept busy with its cheerful 
whirring. She also sewed and embroidered, 
and all this useful handiwork she taught to 
Zoe. 

‘‘ Soon it will be fall, and you will go to 
school,” she said. “ Now is the time to learn 
things of the house. Girls should not learn 
too much of books. It is not good for them. 

119 


120 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


I knew a girl who could read hard books with 
very long words, and what came of it ? It made 
her no fairer to look upon, and her father had 
to give a large dowry to get her married. Often 
I saw her at midday with a book in her hand 
and the house not half neat. Do you think 
it pleased her husband His time was spent 
in the coffee-house, where it was pleasant and 
people talked instead of reading. It is best 
for women to talk and spin and cook; these 
things are of some account. Men cannot do 
them, so leave to men the books.’’ 

So Zoe learned much and worked happily, 
but played also. Petro was a delightful play- 
mate, and the two ran and raced in the sun, 
happy and gay. To be sure they got into mis- 
chief Petro could think of more things to 
do in a minute than poor little Zoe could in 
an hour. She never intended to be naughty, 
which, however, could not be said of her cousin. 
He enjoyed more than anything finding out 


Autumn Pleasures 


I2I 


what would happen if he did things, and he 
dragged Zoe with him into many a scrape, 
knowing that he was not likely to be punished 
if she was with him in any iniquity. 

He was really the village mischief, but so 
friendly a little chap, with such an engaging 
smile for all the world that he seldom got his 
deserts. To be sure, he was a kind-hearted boy, 
and his mischief seldom hurt anybody. He 
tied a bell to the wrong goat so that the herd 
which brought milk to the village (for the goats 
were milked in the streets every morning in- 
stead of the milk being carried around in a 
cart) went blindly after the bell-goat and 
lost itself by going to the wrong stable. 
Another day Petro persuaded Zoe to fish, and 
left her to watch the lines while he went off 
and forgot all about her in some new prank. 
She caught a devil-fish, and as Petro had told 
her on no account to let go of the line if she 
had a bite, but to pull in as fast as she could, 


122 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


when she felt a pull at the hook she obediently 
pulled in the horrid thing. Then she screamed 
in fright. 

“It is the Old Get Away From Here!*'* 
she screamed. “ Petro ! Petro ! ” Naughty 
Petro was far away and did not hear. The 
beast was black, with long legs which wriggled 
and squirmed and sprawled over the sand 
until she was sick with horror. It seemed like 
a dozen snakes all joined to one body, and Zoe 
had never seen anything so horrible. It tried 
to reach the water, and the little girl thought 
it was coming for her. She screamed again 
in such an agony of fright that a man passing 
ran to see what was the matter. 

“ It’s surely the Old Get Away From Here 
I have caught ! ” she cried. “ Oh, please take 
him off my hook and throw him back into the 
sea.” 

“ It is but a devil-fish, child,” he said. “ They 

' Grecian way of speaking of the Evil One. 


Autumn Pleasures 


123 


are good to eat. I will take him ofF and kill 
him for you, and you will then have a good 
dinner.” 

“ Oh, I could not eat it ! ” said Zoe. Thank 
you ever so much,” and she took her lines 
and ran home to Aunt Angelike. That good 
woman threatened dire things to Petro, but 
as he was not on hand to receive them she had 
forgotten all about it when he did appear. 
Truth to tell, Petro seldom received a back 
judgment that was due him, for there was always 
one right at hand, so that the past was over- 
looked. 

The next scrape which overtook Zoe was of 
a more serious nature. She and Petro had 
gone one day to burn a candle in the little church, 
it being Zoe’s sainPs day. This accomplished, 
they sat down to rest under the great tree 
which held the church bell. These tree 
campaniles are often found in Greece and are 
very quaint and pretty. The bell hangs aloft 


124 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

under a little wooden roof, and is rung by 
means of a bell-rope which hangs down among 
the branches. 

It was hot and Zoe was tired with the long 
walk up the hill. 

“ Let’s take a little nap,” she said to Petro. 

“ Very well ! ” said that youngster. If Zoe 
had not been so sleepy she would have suspected 
that Petro’s unusual readiness to keep quiet 
meant that he was planning to do something 
especially naughty. But she merely thought 
he was tired, and closing her eyes, was soon 
sound asleep. 

No sooner was he sure of her slumbers than 
Petro climbed up in the tree to see what the 
great bell was like. He had always wanted 
to do it but had never had a chance before. It 
was not very exciting up there, however, and he 
climbed down again. Then it occurred to 
him that it would be interesting to tie Zoe up 
with the bell-rope and see what she would do. 



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Autumn Pleasures 


125 


So very cautiously, for fear of waking her, he 
tied the rope around her waist. Then he 
thought better of it and tried to untie it, but 
he had made the knot too tight and in working 
at it he wakened Zoe. She sprang to her feet, 
and in so doing pulled the bell-rope. The church 
bell rang with a wild clamour. Papa Demetrios 
came rushing from his house to see what was 
the matter, after him came the papadia and 
all the children, while from the village a troop 
of urchins, followed by older people, came 
hastily up the hill. 

‘‘ Is it a fire ? ” they called. Has news 
come from the king .? ” cried another. “ What 
is wrong in the village ? ’’ cried Papa Deme- 
trios. Nobody could give any answer to these 
questions, and poor Zoe meanwhile rang the 
bell louder and louder in her efforts to free 
herself from the strange thing that bound her. 
At last she tripped over the rope, fell, and sat 


* Priest’s wife. 


126 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

in a heap on the ground, crying bitterly, but 
otherwise quiet. So was the bell. So were all 
the people. Then Papa Demetrios spoke 
very sternly. 

“ What does all this mean ? ** Nobody an- 
swered, for nobody knew. At last Petro spoke. 

‘‘ If you please,” he said in a low voice, 
“ I think it is my fault.” 

“ Did you ring the bell ? ” demanded the 
priest. 

** No,” said Petro. Then with an air of en- 
gaging frankness, “ but I caused Zoe to ring 
it. You see, I tied her to the bell-rope.” 

“ You are a — ” Papa Demetrios’ words 
failed him. I have said that the boy who 
rang this bell should be whipped.” 

“ Yes ” Petro’s tone was respectful, but his 
eyes were dancing, “ but Zoe is not a boy.” 

That is true.” The priest’s face wore a 
puzzled look. He glanced at Zoe, now standing 
before him tear-stained and shame-faced; he 


Autumn Pleasures 


127 


looked at Petro. Then memory took the kind 
old priest back to the days when he himself 
had been the village mischief, and Petro met 
his eyes and found therein an answering gleam. 

“ You are a naughty boy ! ** said Papa Deme- 
trios. “ But since you have told the truth and 
not had the meanness to hide behind a girl, 
you shall not be punished this time. Tell 
your cousin that you are sorry for what you have 
done to her, and beware that you do not touch 
my rope again.*’ 

“ Yes, your Grace,” said the boy. “ But 
why do you let your rope hang down just 
where any boy would want to ring it ? ” 

“ That I do not know,” said the priest, 
with again the twinkle in his eye. “ I suppose 
it is too much for meddlesome fingers. Here- 
after we shall remedy that.” So he cut the 
rope ofF so short that no one could reach it, 
and he made a pole with a hook in the end 
with which to reach it himself, which pole he 


128 Our Little Grecian Cousin 


kept in the priest’s house, so that no boys rang 
the church bell thereafter. And people went 
back to their work, shaking their heads and 
saying, “ What will become of Petro AverofF 
He will grow up to be a vagabond.” To which 
one answered. 

Doubtless he will go to America, so it will 
matter little ! ” 

Aunt Angelike was anything but pleased 
with Petro’s escapade and said severely, 

‘‘ You are indeed a naughty boy. You shall 
be punished by staying home tomorrow while 
I take Zoe to the currant picking.” 

‘‘ Oh, mother ! ” Petros’ face fell. 

“ Oh, Aunt Angelike ! ” cried Zoe. “ Please 
let him go ! I would not enjoy it without him. 
Besides — ” she added in a whisper — “ what 
do you suppose he would do in mischief if you 
left him behind ? ” 

God only knows,” she responded. Really, 
I dare not leave him.” But aloud she said. 


Autumn Pleasures 


129 


“ Since your cousin insists, I shall take you,” 
and Petro grinned, for the whispers had by no 
means been lost to him. 

The time of currants is one of the happiest 
seasons for little Grecian children, for the fruit 
is delicious and it hangs in great clusters upon 
the bushes. The fruit is called ‘‘ Corenth,” 
named from the city of Corinth, and the currant 
trade is among the best in Greece, over a 
hundred and seventy tons being gathered each 
year. 

The currant bushes are planted in rows 
three feet apart, like the Italian grape-vines, 
and grow on a single stalk which is trimmed 
down each year so that the roots may be 
strengthened. 

Shoots spring up in March and April, and by 
the last of August the bushes are loaded with 
fruit, light and dark varieties. Women break 
the earth and heap it around the bushes during 
the growing season, indeed, women do much 


130 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

of the field work in Greece, and it seems to 
agree with them, for Grecian women are nearly 
always healthy, though this may be due to the 
beautiful climate. 

Both drought and rain are bad for the currant 
crop, and the heavy winds often blow the fruit 
olF the bushes, but even with these drawbacks, 
the currants are sent to England, America and 
France, besides the Mediterranean countries, 
and the finest currants in the world come 
from Greece. 

Zoe helped her aunt with the picking, for 
Uncle Andreas owned a currant plot, and every- 
body was needed to help get the fruit in after 
it was ripe. It was a delightful outing into the 
country for the little girl, and she enjoyed the 
picking and the lunch in the open air, which 
they ate seated upon blocks of white marble, 
the ruins of what had once been a beautiful 
temple. Petro was on his good behaviour and 
did nothing worse than fall off a column and 


Autumn Pleasures 


131 

scratch his nose, and a fall from Petro was such 
an everyday occurrence that no one, least of 
all the boy himself, paid any attention to it. 

“ Well, child,” said her aunt, as they went 
homeward that night. “ Have to-day’s pleasures 
made up for yesterday ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed. I have had a beautiful 
time,” said Zoe. “ Thank you ever so much 
for taking me to see the currant picking.” 


CHAPTER X 


A HAPPY EASTER 

It was Easter time. All through the winter 
with its strict Lenten fast, Zoe had looked 
forward to the feast, while Petro had kept the 
fast days under his mother’s strict supervision 
until he said he was ready “ to eat a lamb’s 
bones for Easter breakfast.” All Grecians eat 
lamb at Easter time, and from every house in 
the village on Holy Saturday can be heard 
the bleating of imprisoned sacrifices ready to 
be slain for the morrow’s festivities. 

Uncle Andreas and Marco were to be at home 

in the early morning, and Zoe was happy in 

the thought of seeing them. The little house 

was clean and neat, and Zoe with a light heart 

followed Aunt Angelike up the hill to the 
132 


A Happy Easter 133 

church, whose bells called sleepily to the 
midnight Mass. 

Bright were the stars, and in the sky soft as 
the ocean, the moon full and radiant in beauty. 
The climb to the church at the top of the hill 
was steep, but many of their friends were climb- 
ing too, for all the villagers turned out to the 
service, since no Grecian would willingly miss it. 

They reached the open square before the 
church just as the Mass began. Zoe entered 
behind her aunt and kissed the eikon at the 
door, taking from the server a long taper of 
yellow wax and holding it unlighted, as did 
every-one else. Then the priest came to the 
altar carrying a lighted taper, and all the altar 
boys, of whom Petro was one, scrambled 
excitedly to see who could get his candle 
lighted first. Petro was the lucky one, and it 
was his proud duty to light the candles of the 
waiting worshippers. 

When all were lighted the priest led the 


134 Little Grecian Cousin 


procession, every one bearing his taper alight, 
out into the square. Zoe thought she had never 
seen anything so wonderful as the square all 
aglow with dancing, flickering lights, in the 
centre the catafalque of Christ draped in deepest 
black. Upon this had been laid the cross with 
the image of Christ sawed out of a flat board 
with the face painted on it. The Greek Church 
does not approve of the use of statues, taking 
literally the verse of Scripture, “ Thou shalt 
not make unto thee any graven image,” and 
this painted figure is the nearest to an image 
ever used in the Grecian churches. 

The choir was singing their minor chants, 
the censers were swinging back and forth in a 
cloud of incense, the candles were flaring and 
flickering. As soon as one went out a bystander 
gave of his holy fire and it was relighted. One 
by one the worshippers came forward, knelt 
and kissed the cloth which covered the cata- 
falque, blessing themselves as Papa Deme- 


A Happy Easter 


135 


trios sprinkled them with holy water, and all 
the time the strange, rhythmic chant of the choir 
continued. 

Zoe prayed earnestly and gave little heed 
to the service, so that she did not notice that in 
the crowd she was separated from her aunt. 
It was nearly time for the close of the service 
and she felt in her pocket to see if she had her 
hard-boiled egg. It would be a dreadful thing 
if she had forgotten it. But it was there, and 
she smiled to herself that the happy day would 
soon come. 

All over Greece, in every province, thousands 
of Grecians break a hard-boiled egg when the 
bells ring on Easter morning, a custom which 
has been handed down for centuries. The 
Grecians say that one must always eat hard- 
boiled eggs on Easter morning, and bowls of 
them are found in every house on that day. 
The custom arose in memory of a miracle 
performed when the Turks ruled in Greece. 


136 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

A Turkish woman was carrying an apronful 
of eggs on Easter day and was met by a Grecian 
who politely saluted the infidel, “ Christ is 
risen ! ’’ 

“ Risen indeed ! ” said the unbeliever. “ I 
shall never believe that until these eggs in my 
apron have turned red.” 

‘‘ Open thine apron and see ! ” said the Gre- 
cian, blessing herself as she spoke, and lo ! 
the eggs were red as blood ! The unbeliever 
straightway believed, and from that day red 
eggs have been eaten at Easter. 

Suddenly Papa Demetrios raised his hand and 
blessed the people, saying in a loud voice, 

Christos Aneste ! ” Immediately the bell- 
ringer seized the bell-rope which hung from the 
great tree beside the church, and rang the 
bell in a wild and joyous clamour. All over 
the land, far and near, other bells were rung, 
and from every voice on the square went up 
the glad shout, ‘‘ Christ is risen ! Christ is 


A Happy Easter 


137 


risen ! ’’ Boys threw torpedoes at the white 
walls of the church and in the distance could 
be heard the sound of guns and fire-crackers, 
and everywhere was the wildest joy. 

Zoe’s taper suddenly went out. 

“ Aunt Angelike,” she said, “ please light 
my taper.’’ Her aunt did not answer, and 
looking hastily over her shoulder, Zoe saw that 
she was not there and around her surged the 
crowd. For a moment she was frightened, then 
she said to herself, 

“ There is nothing to fear. I must not be 
afraid. I shall soon find her,” and she turned 
here and there, but could find no trace at all 
of her aunt. 

‘‘ Can she have started home without me ? ” 
she thought, and tried to reach the edge of the 
crowd. Her foot caught against a branch of 
olive thrown down, and she stumbled and would 
have fallen had not a strong arm caught her. 

“ Oh, thank you,” she cried as she struggled 


138 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

to her feet, to find herself in the grasp of a 
bearded stranger who looked at her so strangely 
that she wondered what was the matter. 

‘‘ Your name, child, what is your name ? ’’ 
he demanded. 

‘‘ My name is Zoe AverofF,’’ she said. ‘‘ I 
must find my aunt. Please let me go.’’ He 
held her arm so tightly and looked at her so 
strangely that she was frightened. 

‘‘ I shall never let you go ! ” he exclaimed. 
“ Zoe ! Zoe ! do you not know me ” Some- 
thing in the voice seemed strangely familiar. 
She looked into his face, into the dark eyes 
which looked with such love and longing into 
hers, then she gave a glad cry, 

“ My father ! oh, my father ! ” and his arms 
closed around her. 

Such a happy Easter ! ” said Aunt Angelike, 
as Sunday morning dawned clear and beautiful. 

“ My husband and Marco at home, Zoe’s 


A Happy Easter 


139 


father come back to the child, Petro behaving 
not worse than usual and the Easter lamb 
roasting a perfect brown as I baste it with the 
lemon dipped in lard.” 

“ Was it not wonderful that my father found 
me at Easter time ^ ” said Zoe, a strangely 
radiant Zoe, with shining eyes and brilliant 
cheeks. “ He had been ill for weeks in a strange 
place they call Chicago. There he met a 
Grecian from Argolis and from him he heard 
that the news had come from Thessaly that 
my mother and I were dead. At that he did 
not want to return home, but he wrote several 
times to Uncle Georgios to hear of us and had 
no answer. Of course those letters never came. 
At first he sold things from a little cart in the 
streets. Then he saved money and with 
another Grecian he had a shop with flowers 
to sell. The Americans are strange people. 
They have money to throw away ! They buy 
fruit ^nd flowers all the time. Think of so 


140 Our Little Grecian Cousin 

strange a country where one buys what here 
one may take with but a ' thank you ’ for pay ! 
In the flower shop he made much money. 
But he was always sad. The money was of 
little good, since he had no one to share it with. 
Then he grew very homesick. He wanted 
once more to see Argolis and to sail on the blue 
seas of Greece. So he sold his flowers to his 
partner and took all his drachmas and returned 
home. He thought to spend his Easter here 
and go then to Thessaly to hear of my mother 
and myself, and how we came to die. Then 
as Papa Demetrios said, ‘ Christ is risen ! ’ 
lo ! there was I risen from the dead.’’ 

I thought it was a miracle,” said her father. 
“ For though the child is grown older, she is 
just like the Zoe whom I left, and to see alive 
her whom I thought dead was indeed a marvel.” 

‘‘ Shall you return to that far land ? ” asked 
Uncle Andreas, ** and take Zoe from us ? ” 

Not so,” said Zoe’s father. I shall stay 


A Happy Easter 


141 


here and have a fishing-boat, for home is best 
and I think Zoe would not be happy so far 
away/* 

“ I am glad you will not take her from us,’* 
Aunt Angelike said sweetly. “ I have learned 
to love her as my daughter.** 

“ I am glad, too,” said Marco, and Uncle 
Andreas laid his hand upon her curls, saying, 
‘‘ We all love the child.” 

Zoe smiled happily and nestled up to her 
father. 

“ Such a happy, happy Easter,” she said. 
“ I have nothing in all the world to wish for.” 

“ Then wish for dinner,” said Petro. “ It 
seems to me that lamb will never be done.” 

“ You are a Turk ! ** said his mother, laugh- 
ing, and all laughed too, all except Petro, for 
his mother had called him the very worst thing 
which one can call our little Grecian Cousin. 


THE END. 



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Aunt Nabby’s Children. By Frances Hodges White 
Child’s Dream of a Star, The. By Charles Dickens. 
Flight of Rosy Dawn, The. By Pauline Bradford Mackie. 
Findeikind. By Ouida. 

Fairy of the Rhone, The. By A. Comyns Carr. 

Qatty and I. By Frances E. Crompton. 

Helena’s Wonderworld. By Frances Hodges White. 
Jerry’s Reward. By Evelyn Snead Barnett. 

La Belle Nivernaise. By Alphonse Daudet. 

Little King Davie. By Nellie Hellis. 

Little Peterkin Vandlke. By Charles Stuart Pratt. 
Little Professor, The. By Ida Horton Cash. 

Peggy’s Trial. By Mary Knight Potter. 

Prince Yeliowtop. By Kate Whiting Patch. 

Provence Rose, A. By Ouida. 

Seventh Daughter, A. By Grace Wickham Curran. 
Sleeping Beauty, The. By Martha Baker Dunn. 

Small, Small Child, A. By E. Livingston Prescott. 
Susanne. By Frances J. Delano. 

Water People, The. By Charles Lee Sleight. 

Young Archer, The. By Charles E. Brimblecom. 


COSY CORNER SERIES 

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well- 
known artists, and each volume has a separate attrac- 
tive cover design. 

Each I voL, i6mo, cloth .... $0.50 

By ANNIE FELLOWS /ONNS TON 

The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its hero- 
ine is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, 
on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school 
Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family 
are famous in the region. 

The Giant Scissors. 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures 
in France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex- 
periences of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.” 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is 
not, however, the central figure of the story, that place 
being taken by the “ two little knights.” 

Mildred’s Inheritance. 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful 
speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is en- 
abled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the 
use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, 
happy one. 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON (ConHnued) 

Cicely and Other Stories for Qirls. 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juvenile* 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for 
young people. 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories. 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will 
appeal to all boys and most girls. 

Big Brother. 

A Story of two boys. The devotion and care of 
Steven, himself a smaU boy, for his baby brother, is the 
theme of the simple tale. 

Ole Mammy’s Torment. 

« Ole Mammy’s Torment ” has been fitly called “ a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

The Story of Dago. 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 

The Quilt That Jack Built. 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and 
how it changed the course of his life many years after 
it was accomplished. 

Flip’s Islands of Providence. 

A Story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat^ aad hb 
final triumph, well worth the reading;* 


cosy CORNER SERIES 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A Little Puritan’s First Christmas, 

A Story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how 
Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child 
of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty. 

The author introduces this story as follows : 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A Loyal Little Maid. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler^ 
renders important services to George Washington. 

A Little Puritan Rebel. 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the 
time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of 
Massachusetts. 

A Little Puritan Pioneer. 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settle- 
ment at Charlestown. 

A Little Puritan Bound Girl. 

A Story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A Little Puritan Cavalier. 

The Story of a “ Little Puritan Cavalier ” who tried 
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and 
ideals of the dead Crusaders. 

A Puritan Knight Errant. 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights 
of olden days. 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By QUID A (Louise de la Ramie) 

A Dog of Flanders : a Christmas Story. 
Too well and favorably known to require description. 

The Numbers Stove. 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
at a popular price. 

By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 

The Little Giant’s Neighbours. 

A charming nature story of a “ little giant ” whost 
neighbours were the creatures of the field and garden. 

Farmer Brown and the Birds. 

A little story which teaches children that the birds 
are man’s best friends. 

Betty of Old Mackinaw. 

A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to 
the little readers who like stories of “ real people.” 

Brother Billy. 

The story of Betty’s brother, and some further ad- 
ventures of Betty herself. 

Mother Nature’s Little Ones. 

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, 
or “ childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors. 

How Christinas Came to the Mul- 
vaneys. 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor chil- 
dren, with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 
The wonderful never-to-be forgotten Christmas that 
came to them is the climax of a series of exciting inci- 
dents. 







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